Plain Ole' Me
by The Author's Mighty Pen
Summary: Everyone told him she was no one of any particular standing but when John Bates extended his hand to Anna Smith at the ball at the Bavarian Embassy he upset the order of things and they would either be torn apart in the coming storm or seek strength in one another.
1. I Could Have Danced All Night

He lifted his chin as the valet pulled the tie straight. "I think you should be ready milord."

"Thank you Andrew." He checked himself in the full-length mirror. "I guess there's only so much we can do in the end."

"I think you look rather dashing milord." Andrew held out the jacket and dusted the shoulders with a brush. "You'll put our hosts to shame."

"It is the Bavarian Embassy," He pulled his cuffs to the edge of his jacket sleeves, "I'm sure that would be frown upon by our hosts if John Bates, Baron Rothschild outshone them."

"It's a serious concern with someone as incredible as yourself milord."

"You're much better at flattery than I am Andrew." He sighed, "Ready?"

"As much as we can make you milord."

"Perfect. Take the evening to yourself Andrew. I won't be back until late so I'll just undress myself and leave it for you in the morning."

"Very good milord."

John went to the front door, taking his cape and cane from the footman before bending for his hat. "Thank you."

"Enjoy your evening milord."

"May that be the prayer from all of us." John ducked outside, climbing inside his cab. "I've my doubts."

The cab jostled a bit through the streets and he passed the time dusting invisible flecks off his top hat. When the cab halted he waited for the door to open before climbing out of the space. With a nod toward the driver, and the inevitable exchange of money, he joined the thin queue for the interior of the building.

Men at the door examined his invitation, giving a look between themselves before handing it back, and John tucked the invitation away. He handed over his hat, cape, and cane to the first valet free to take it, and tried to edge around the gathering milling around the expansive parlor, sitting room, and library as they waited for entrance to the ballroom. John snuck a glass from a passing tray and tried to hide himself away in a corner until the clock struck inevitable doom.

That moment arrived just as he finally lighted his fingers upon a book in the library. With a sigh he returned it, leaving his glass with others constituting a quorum on the table, and headed for the door. As he did it was blocked by a woman with fiercely blue eyes and a stunning red dress.

"Good evening John." She entered the room and pulled the door closed behind her as he stepped back to place the table between them. "I thought, when you came, you would make your way directly to me. It is a party celebrating me after all and it seems rude that my fiancé wouldn't be the first to offer his congratulations on this glorious day."

"It would seem odd if I were your fiancé didn't greet you but I'm not your fiancé." He bowed to her, "My greatest wishes for happiness of your birthday all the same Vera."

"And what gift does the Baron bring me?" Her finger traced the edge of the table as she circled toward him and John held his ground.

"I'm afraid I didn't see the part on the invitation where we were bringing gifts." He opened his hands before shrugging. "My apologies or I might've been better prepared."

"You could ask for my hand."

"That would be ill advised."

"Why?" Her finger skated down his cheek and John flicked his head back. "Your parents want the union as much as my own do. A union between the Rothchilds and a great house of Bavaria… what could be better?"

"Perhaps a union where we actually loved our partner." John took a pronounce step back, clicking his heels to bow to her again. "Again, my best wishes for your birthday."

"Perhaps you should bring your wishes to public form and open the ball me." She smiled at him and John sought to suppress a shudder.

"I would be honored to open your ball with you, should no one else argue."

"No one will." She walked toward the doors, "They all see it coming for us John. I just struggle to understand why you fight it so."

"Because I don't see it coming, Vera." John waited for her to leave before looking back over the glasses on the table.

He found one that still contained alcohol and knocked it back as quickly as he could before following Vera from the room.

* * *

She pulled at the glove on her wrist before the other woman put a hand on hers, stilling her actions. "If you keep pulling at it you'll tear it."

"I'm just nervous Mary."

"I can tell." Mary patted at her artfully twisted hair as the crush moved closer to the doors. "But you'll be fine Anna. It's just a ball and you already know now to dance."

"But all those people of title and position. I'll be shamed to a corner."

"There's nothing shameful about being the heiress to a shipping enterprise." Mary snorted, "You've got more money than most of the people in that room because their ancestors of title squandered it years ago."

"Still, this is a place where people like me don't belong."

"No one belongs in one of these rooms Anna unless they tell themselves and everyone else they do until everyone accepts it." Mary took them closer to the door, pulling two cards from her glove. "How'd you think they got into these rooms in the first place?"

Anna did not have time to answer as Mary handed over the two cards and held her wrist in hers. The man there stamped his stick against the floor twice before practically bellowing to the large room. "The Lady Mary Crawley and Ms. Anna Smith."

"Come on." Mary tugged her forward and they descended the steps toward the sparkling floor where a few heads looked up at their entrance.

Swallowing, and trying not to tug at her gloves again, Anna stayed by Mary's side as she guided them about the room. Men in their finest white tie turned almost at her command and soon Anna's head spun with the names and titles and peerages surrounding her in the room. Eventually they worked their way back around the floor when Anna whispered toward Mary.

"What was the purpose of that again?"

"To fill up your dance card with men who need a wife of means." Mary opened hers, scowling a bit. "I do wish Tony Foyle hadn't put himself on every polka I have. I know he can't dance them."

"Why would I want to marry any of these men?" Anna clutched her own dance card, thankfully only boasting two names that she could still put faces to. "If they're only after my father's money then what does that leave me?"

"Men like my father aren't hard to find." Mary smiled toward a man who approached them, holding out his hand for the card she gave him with all the grace of a queen deigning acknowledge a lowly knight. "And they're not all bad."

"I never said they were."

"You're doubting if you should consider them."

"I'd like someone who isn't marrying me to square themselves away with someone before they spend our whole marriage in someone else's bed." Anna sighed, "I know you think it's naïve but I want to marry someone who loves me, or at the very least likes me for who I am."

"We all wish for that Anna." Mary confided, "Women in our positions are just accustomed to the reality that we're not going to get it."

They quieted as the band in the corner drew silent and the herald at the door called out, "The Princess of Bavaria escorted by the Baron Rothschild."

"They say they'll be married soon." Mary nudged Anna's side, "And mostly for money."

"Does he like her? Does she like him?"

"Who doesn't like the idea of spending all the money they could ever want?"

"Anyone who wants to know they're appreciated for more than that." Anna turned her face to the couple as they descended the stairs near her and for a moment her heart stopped.

His eyes met hers and it was as if time paused for them. Anna's breath caught in her throat and she struggled to fill her lungs at the depth in his eyes. For a second she noted his own step faltered before he regained his decorum and came to the middle of the floor. But his eyes, those windows to his soul, never left hers.

Even as he danced about the room he always sought her. Even when he maneuvered a partner the men in the room salivated for, he looked at her. And even when the woman in his arms attempted to hold him closer he maintained a distance so he could still see her.

The dance ended and Anna joined the applause. Their eyes disengaged a moment as he kissed his partner's hand and led her to the next patron seeking her attentions. Anna lowered her head to read the name on her card when a gasp at her right drew her head up.

He stood there, holding his hand out to her. "I do hope you won't think me too presumptuous, Miss, but may I have the pleasure of this waltz?"

"I'd be honored, milord." She gave her hand and he led her to the floor. "Though I thought your card would be far more occupied."

"My card is blissfully empty." He took her into position, "Although I would request the pleasure to taking another space on yours, if you permit."

"I wouldn't have it in me to say no." Anna swallowed, "But I must admit I don't know your name."

"John Bates, Baron Rothschild." He tipped his head near her, "If you could refer to me as 'John' while we're in close quarters I'd greatly prefer it. Reminds me that I have a first name."

"I can manage that." The music started and Anna flowed into his sure steps, relying wholly on him to lead her about the floor.

"And may I have your name?"

"Anna Smith. I'm here as a guest of Lady Mary Crawley."

"I've only ever heard horror stories about her." John smiled and they both choked back sniggers. "I'm sure she's much tamer than the stories would have me believe."

"She's one of the best people I've ever met, if that tells you anything."

"It tells me a great deal, Ms. Smith."

They glided around the room, perfectly in time with the music, and Anna lost herself in the beauty of it.

"Do you like the Blue Danube, Ms. Smith?"

"It's a beautiful song."

"I can assure you, as beautiful as the river after which Strauss wrote it." They pulled to a stop as the music finished. "Perhaps someday you'll see it for yourself."

"I'd like that." Anna fiddled with her card a moment before John reached for it. "I couldn't impose-"

"The imposition is all mine." He signed his name and Anna expected to take it back but he continued signing his name until he reached the end of the card. "I hope you don't mind that I took the liberty of all the waltzs this evening."

Anna coughed, "I'm sure to bore you before you fulfill on you obligation in that regard milord."

"I don't think you will." He bowed his head to her, taking her hand to kiss it. "I look forward to continuing our conversation Ms. Smith."

"As do I." She curtsied to him as he went to find another partner for the next dance.

Her hands glided over her glove, the heat of the kiss soaking through to her own skin, and jumped as Mary's hand came to her shoulder. Mary removed her hand, eyes widening, and smiled at her. "Am I to assume that you're very taken with Baron Rothschild?"

"I…" Anna shrugged, "I think so."

"It's not a bad one to find fascinating." Mary grinned, "Now, find a new partner before they find you."

As Mary joined the fray for the next dance Anna's eyes flicked up. They met John's a moment and she smiled. But the smile soon deflated as she found the eyes of the Princess of Bavaria.

Those eyes sent a cold chill through her.


	2. We're All Mad Here

John extricated himself from a conversation he could not recall to save his life, and hurried over to where Anna and Lady Mary accepted the help of the footman to get into their coats. The footman bowed to him and both ladies turned at his presence.

"I do hope I'm not delaying you or being overly forward if I ask for a moment with Ms. Smith."

"The motor's waiting." Lady Mary smiled, exchanging her greetings with him. "A pleasure to see you in public again milord."

"Please give all my best to your father."

"He'll be gutted he wasn't able to attend on the invitation. If he'd known you were here-"

"We'd both have spent the entire ball in the library with him telling me stories I lived with him." John laughed, "But I'll make a point to call on him before I leave London."

"He'll be delighted." Lady Mary addressed Anna, "I'll be in the car."

She left and John turned back to Anna, measuring the seconds before someone ruined them. "Again, I hope I'm not being too forward."

"Not at all. I'm actually rather flattered you've taken the time to notice me at all this evening."

"It'd be difficult for me not to notice you, Ms. Smith." John nodded them toward a corner by the door, shadowed and ignored by all the glittering people hoping to be seen as they left. "I was wondering if you had any time in your schedule tomorrow."

"I've time enough for a few things." Anna frowned, "May I ask why?"

"I'd like to see you again, outside of this rather stuffy atmosphere, and I'm not in London for a long time. I've a great deal to do but I've two free hours tomorrow. I'd like to spend them with you, if you're willing."

"It seems you can't do anything but flatter me, Baron." Anna took a breath, "I'll give you my card and make sure I'm free."

"Perfect." He took it from her hand, clutching her fingers to kiss the back of her glove again. "I greatly enjoyed our conversation this evening."

"Then I'll have to bring more of the same to our meeting tomorrow." Anna took her hand back and he noticed how she massaged over the spot with slow fingers. "Until then, Baron."

"Until then Ms. Smith." He clicked his heels together and bowed to her, watching as she left the foyer.

When he turned he almost ran into Vera. She glared at him and John pulled at his jacket, trying to give his hands something to do. The growl in her voice, accompanying the flick of her gaze toward the door, set the warning bells ringing in John's ears.

"Who was that woman?"

"Daughter of a shipping magnate." John held up the card, displaying the intricate crest of the shipping company but not Anna's name, and then slid it into the pocket of his jacket. "As you know I'm always searching for new enterprises where I can invest my money and get the best rate of return. It's one of the reasons my father's been advising yours on how to better spend the money he doesn't have."

Vera bristled, "You've never danced every waltz at a party with a contact."

"Most of them, in the past, have been men and they tend not to want to take the female position. Moreover, if I propositioned their wives to dance all the waltzes I get the feeling I'd engender jealousy, not trust."

"So once you've danced all night with her then what?" Vera's eyebrows arched and then deepened into a terrifying 'V' shape. "Invite her back to yours where you show her that your pocketbook isn't the only interest she'll have in you?"

"Unlike some, Vera, I don't have to sell my body to get what I want." John turned to the footman and handed over his ticket. "Whatever interest I have in the SS Shipping is really none of your concern."

"What if I made it my concern?"

John shrugged, "I guess one needs something to occupy their time." He took his hat and cape, putting on both before taking his cane and nodding to Vera. "Again, Princess Vera, happy birthday."

John made his way to the cab cue and nodded to one of the drivers. Slipping into the back of the cab he called out his address and pulled the card from his jacket. There, underneath the name he could read in the glow of the passing streetlights, was the title: General Manager.

Turning over the card with a frown he realized he read the name of the company incorrectly. It was AS Shipping, not SS Shipping. John tapped his cane on the wall and leaned forward to show the card to the driver.

"Do you know this address?"

"Yes sir but they'll be closed. Only have a few people on the docks now but they'll have first run in the morning."

"What time is that?"

"About five sir. They're hard workers and they operate by the tide, not the sun."

"Do they really?" John continued flipping the card over his fingers. "And what about you? Do you follow the tides or the sun?"

"I follow the money sir."

"Then let me propose something." John reached back into his pocket, withdrawing the bills and counting them. "You take me back to mine tonight. Then, around five-thirty tomorrow morning, you take me to this address. Guaranteed payment to and from all destinations. Possibly work all day."

"Are you serious sir?" The man almost turned around in his seat before forcing himself to focus forward.

"Absolutely."

"Doesn't a man like you have a driver for that kind of thing?"

"Not one in London and not one with an Irish accent." John narrowed his eyes, "What if I took you on as my driver when I'm in London? It's getting to the point where I'm here often enough I should invest in a driver but they're so hard to find."

"I can promise you swift delivery to any address and that I know London like the back of my left hand."

"Not your right hand as well?" John frowned and the man laughed.

"I know that hand a bit better sir, if you catch my meaning."

"I think I do." John shrugged, "What's your name?"

"Branson sir, Tom Branson."

"Alright Mr. Branson. Take me to the first address I told you now. Then, five-thirty sharp tomorrow morning, be back there and ready to drive. Can you do that?"

"With the kind of money you're offering sir I could grow a pair of wings."

"I don't need those quite yet but maybe later." John sat back in his seat, tapping his fingers absently against the head of his cane. "Do you know anything about AS Shipping?"

"Only as much as the next man I guess."

"What does the next man know?"

"They're a medium sized firm that's experiencing steady growth. Investing in their stocks doesn't get anyone rich in a hurry but it's a safe investment that'll grow the portfolio." Branson shrugged, steering through the dark streets. "They've got themselves a steady fleet of steamers and they're dedicated to the workers they employ. One of the only firms that keeps all of its operators on a contract, pays them fairly, and even keeps working conditions suitable. It's why they're growing so much. They're not constantly replacing the sick and dying like the rest."

"Who's the owner?"

"Some bloke from up in Whitby. Had a little fishing business up there, so they say, and then moved to Liverpool to take a crack into the major shipping lines there."

"Did it work?"

"Must've. They say he had a bit of help for a lord or something. Some kind of school friend of his daughter's or some such. All I know if he moved his operations down here and then retired about a year ago to live in a castle up north."

"Who runs the business now?"

"Not entirely sure. There's the general manager, who took over when he retried, but that's all I've ever heard." Branson snapped the fingers on one hand, "I've a cousin, works the dock over from their berths, who might ferret out more information for you if you want."

"No, what you've given me is fine." John sucked the inside of his cheek, "Although, if your cousin could give us a tour of the docks tomorrow morning I could make it well worth his time and trouble."

"It'd be no time at all and with incentive like that he'll bear the trouble sir." Branson winked at John over his shoulder and then took the last few streets to get John in front of his address. "Anything else for tonight sir?"

"No," John handed over the bills. "Just tomorrow morning and then a few days after that."

"Yes sir." Branson came around to open the door and John left the car to climb the steps to his door.

It opened before he had to raise a fist and he nodded to the footman there, handing over his cane, hat, and cape. They did not speak, John managing himself to his study as the clock struck one. With a groan he removed the card from his pocket and set it on the desk before digging around for some other papers. His eyes flicked over them quickly but he only needed to skim the information to nod and then replace the papers to the side of the card.

Picking it up again he snorted, "What kind of woman are you?"

* * *

Anna looked up from her writing and reached for the ringing phone. The ear piece covered her small ear and she held the neck to put the mouthpiece close enough to hear her. "Anna Smith speaking."

"There's a call for you miss, from your line at the docks."

"Put it through." Anna waited a moment for the breathing to change on the other end. "Ms. Baxter what can I do for you?"

"There's been an odd development."

Anna frowned and sat straighter in her chair, "What kind of odd development?"

"The men here, finishing the first shift, said a man in a suit arrived here this morning and toured himself around our dock."

"Did he do anything else?"

"Not that they saw, no. He had two Irishmen with him but they seemed in constant conversation."

"Did anyone overhear them?"

"Not that they know of miss. They said the men weren't doing any harm and didn't seem to be stalking over the place to cause any kind of damage. They were just…well the men said it was like they were on a tour. Did you authorize that?"

"I can't say I did. We haven't had a tour there since the inspectors came round." Anna adjusted in her chair, "If they didn't cause any harm then we'll leave it at that. I'm sure you or Mr. Moseley can contact the necessary authorities if there's any cause for it."

"What if the men come back miss?"

"We then ask them politely what they need and see that they're treated with dignity until we've reason to suspect otherwise." Anna looked up as a knock at her door signaled the entry of a woman about her height but with more lines on her face. "If there's nothing else, Ms. Baxter, I must go. Mrs. Hughes is here on a mission of some kind."

"That's all miss. We just thought you should know."

"Alright. I'll be in tomorrow and we'll discuss the possibility of increased security on the docks if we need to. Have a good day Ms. Baxter."

"And you, Ms. Smith."

Anna replaced the earpiece in the cradle and the phone itself to the shelf above her desk before turning to the woman in her doorway. "How can I help you, Mrs. Hughes?"

"There's a man in the foyer with a message. Says he's here for a Mr. John Bates."

"Oh?" Anna craned back to check the clock over the mantel before capping her pen. "I'll just get my coat and be off."

"For how long miss?"

"He said he only had two hours so I'd guess about that long."

"Do I have a location for anyone who asks about it?"

"No," Anna arranged her things on the desk and then faced Mrs. Hughes. "If it's urgent then I'll address it as soon as I return. If it's not… then we just leave it be."

"What about Mr. Green? He hinted he might stop by today."

"For Mr. Green I'm always busy." Anna shook her head, "I don't know why that man continues to bother when I've refused every invitation he's ever given me."

"Some men don't see a hint, miss, they see a challenge." Mrs. Hughes walked with Anna to the foyer and helped her put on her coat. "But I'll tell him you're occupied with other engagements."

"Thank you." Anna checked herself over in the mirror and frowned, "I don't want to wide brim, Mrs. Hughes. I'll need to see the person I'm talking to so I'll take the hat with a tilt to it."

"Just keep him on your right side miss and you'll be fine." Mrs. Hughes helped settle the hat on Anna's head and positioned the hatpin to keep it secure. "Your father sent word as well this morning. Said he's coming down with your mother next week and hopes you have time for a little gathering."

"I hope it's not another party for his Navy friends." Anna shuddered and took the bag Mrs. Hughes handed her. "I couldn't look at cards for a week without the ringing of all that shouting still echoing in my ears."

"They say Racing Demon is a young man's game."

"Good thing I'm not a man." Anna turned to Mrs. Hughes, "how do I look?"

"Quite the lady, miss."

"Thank you." Anna walked into the small room between the foyer and her front door to see a man crushing a cap in his hands. "I believer you're here to take me to Mr. Bates?"

"Yes I am milady."

"Please," Anna held up a hand, "I'm not a lady so you can just call me Ms. Smith."

"As you wish miss." The man opened the door and stepped to the side to allow her out. "I was interested in the what appeared to be the small size of your household for what I thought was a grand family."

"I find, in this town, grand families means one of two things and I'm neither."

"Oh, and what are those things miss?" He opened the door and she climbed inside.

"Either they're got a great name or they're trying to buy a great name."

"And you don't want a great name?"

"I'm not interested in selling my soul for what that would entail." Anna sat back, "And what about you? What skills do you have?"

"I'm a driver miss." He turned over the seat to look at her. "Mr. Bates met me last night and hired me for the rest of his stay in London. And, whenever he comes back, I'll be his driver. It's a good deal as far as I'm concerned."

"I would think so." Anna sat carefully in the seat, keeping her head forward so as not to crush her hat on the back wall. "Did he happen to tell you where we're going sir?"

"I'm not 'sir' miss anymore than you say you're 'lady'." He laughed, "I'm Tom Branson and all I know is that I'm supposed to deliver you to the gardens."

"Which ones?"

"I believe Kensington. That's the address he gave me. If it's anywhere beyond there I've got no idea and I'll be no help to you."

"I think that's direction enough." Anna let the car lull them into quiet for a few moments before speaking again, "Might I ask a rather strange-sounding question?"

"Of course miss."

"You're Irish, yes?"

"If you can't hear it in my voice miss then yes, I am."

"No, I did, it's just…" Anna bit at her lip, "You wouldn't happen to know anyone who works the docks over in the East End do you?"

"I know a few. Got a number of cousins that make their living over there."

"Then would I be right in suggesting that perhaps you were there early this morning, with Mr. Bates, taking a tour of docks surrounding the AS Shipping company?" Branson did not immediately respond. "I'm asking because apparently, if it was you, it caused bit of fright amongst my workers."

"Did they worry we would torch the place miss?"

"They didn't know what to expect but I'd guess the company of a man in a fine suit would seem to tell them their jobs might've been in jeopardy and that's not fair for them." Anna waited and Branson finally nodded.

"Mr. Bates asked me last night if I could take him to an address on a card but when I saw it was a shipping company I told him they wouldn't be open until early. He then had me come to his house this morning and give him a tour of the area."

"And afterward?"

"Took him back home miss. He looked knackered but he had other meetings today. Said it was all about business and investigation and I didn't ask anymore."

"But he didn't tell you what it was all about?"

"No miss. Just that he wanted to see it."

"Interesting." Anna sat back, "Why do you think he was interested in it?"

"Seemed curious about the owner and the manager of the business. Given the kind of money he had I just thought he might want to buy someone out."

"That happen often?"

"Who can say? Do ants know the dealings of men, miss?"

"You're quite the poet."

"I'm a reader."

"What do you read?"

"Socialist documents mostly and history books. I think there's a lot to learn from the failures of others but people are too concerned failing themselves they don't see there's a way out of it if they just take a moment to pause."

"Good advice." Anna chewed the inside of her cheek. "That's very good advice."

* * *

John tipped his hat to a passing group of ladies and tried not to let his sigh become audible when he heard their giggles. The older woman with them tutted and shooed them onward. He shook his head, turning away from them to see Branson's can pull up. Branson hopped out of his seat and opened the back door, giving a hand to Anna so she could disembark.

With a smile John walked over to her, tipping his hat. She pulled the edges of her skirt for a curtsey and then slipped her hand forward for him to kiss. John bent his head and laid his lips on her uncovered skin, staying perhaps a moment too long just to let the sensation ripple through him.

When he did return her hand, John met Anna's flushed face before turning to Branson. "We'll take a turn so jut wait for us here will you?"

"Yes sir." Branson mocked a salute and John offered his left elbow to Anna.

"If you'd like."

"I think, for the moment," Anna put a hand on his arm, "We'd do better to walk in step with one another. I think we're not to the point yet where we should give anyone ideas about our relationship to one another."

"And what," John asked as he fell into step beside her, "Would you mean by implying you and I have a relationship, Ms. Smith?"

"I'd assume a business one since you were seen skulking around the docks near the shipping company I manage." Anna kept her face forward but the positioning of her hat allowed John to see the twitch of her lip toward a very satisfied smirk. "Your driver isn't the quiet type and he has a very distinctive accent."

"Maybe next time I should think about someone who's a little less Irish."

"Or ask me to give you a tour." Anna stopped, "If you're interested in AS Shipping, Mr. Bates, I'll have to tell you that we're looking neither for partners nor to sell."

"Then it's a good thing I've no interest in buying your business." John nodded them onward and they continued forward. "I wanted to learn more about you, Ms. Smith, and since I discovered from my very talkative Irish driver that the owner of AS Shipping lives in a castle to the north I must assume that the day-to-day operations of the empire owned by Mr. Samuel Smith of SS Shipping are now owned and fully operated by his daughter, Anna Smith, owner of AS Shipping."

He pulled them to another halt, "Is that a correct assessment?"

"It's not widely published knowledge-"

"For obvious reasons."

Anna nodded, "But yes, I do own my father's company."

"But you tell everyone your father is still the owner."

"Because most men won't take a woman seriously and they need to believe that I'm only running the company on my father's grace and goodwill. If they thought it was for my own merit they'd sink me as quickly as they could launch an inquiry." Anna took a breath, "It's for the safety of my company that I print 'General Manager' on my cards instead of 'Owner'."

"That's the kind of woman one only gets to know when they skulk around a dock at six in the morning." John smiled at her and offered his arm. "Shall we?"

Anna took it and they took the gravel path again. John tapped a steady rhythm with his cane and Anna kept her head aimed forward. Eventually she spoke.

"What has you in London then, Mr. Bates?"

"I'm here for business." John shrugged, "Being a member of a banking family requires that you do a lot of monetary business. Personally I'm here to mange the investments of some of our private clients."

"You do it personally?"

"I've got more charm than they do." He smiled at her as they turned the track around a pond. "And I've got a decent head on my shoulders where they tend to throw money at their problems."

"If you don't mind me saying, you come from a family where you can throw money at your problems."

"Yes and no." John paused and Anna halted beside him. "I'm a Rothschild because my father is a Rothschild but my mother was not my father's wife."

"I'm so sorry that I presumed…" Anna hurried to cover herself, "Please forgive my ignorance."

"There's nothing to forgive," He assured her and they started back on their track. "My father gave me his name, eventually, and a leg up into the world where I live but I do so with the knowledge that my very frugal and average mother imparted."

"Which would be?"

"How to live in a world where money might not exist." John sighed, "My father didn't step into be my father until I was eleven. Then he shipped me to boarding school with my half-siblings as a 'ward of the house'."

"Did they tease you?"

"Horribly but that's school for you." John snorted, "But I guess the victor, in the end, is the one who remains standing and I made my mother proud."

"I'm sure you did." Anna kept pace with him, her feet crunching gravel at the same pace. "My father built his company from nothing. I was nothing for a long time and I still see myself that way. It's why I think I surprised your driver with the sparseness of my household."

"The address was a little surprising giving you attended last night's function with Lady Mary Crawley."

"She's a friend from school and more down to earth than most people realize." Anna looked into the distance, "She had to grow up very quickly."

"I never relish that thought." John sighed with her, "I rather hoped people could stay naïve as long as possibly because you tend to be more hopeful when you're naïve."

"It was her father going off to war that did it." Anna paused, as if choosing her words. "I guess they don't even call it a war but when he went to China, for what they're calling the Boxer Rebellion, it changed her. She had to grow up very quickly and learn to control her household."

"Where was her mother?"

"America, visiting her mother, and her extended family was on the Continent." Anna turned up to look at John, "How is that you know Lord Grantham?"

"The Boxer Rebellion." John tapped his right leg with his cane. "It's how I injured my leg."

"Hence the cane is function over fashion?"

"It's a bit fashionable too."

They laughed and Anna continued, "What was it like?"

John pursed his lips, staring into the distance, "I don't talk about it because…" He shook his head, "I'd rather not speak on it."

"I do hope it's not because I am a lady and you fear having to carry me should I decide to faint." Anna managed, John noticing the way she bit down on her jaw. "I don't find it at all fashionable and therefore I'm not at risk for that kind of behavior."

"It's not that I don't trust your constitution, Ms. Smith," John faced her, "As everything I've thus far learned about you tells me you're more than a match for many a woman I've met."

"Then may I ask why?"

"Because it's not grand or noble or wonderful the way novels or penny dreadfuls would have you believe. It's the stuff of nightmares that I wouldn't wish on anyone"

"Even though many have to endure it?"

"Especially then." John closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to think past the screams and the smells that assaulted his senses when the memories surged. "I don't like talking about war or fighting because it's brutal and cruel. It's what the sons of houses that have spare sons do because they think it's honorable and it gets them out of the way. And while I believe in serving to defend my country I don't believe in defending interests that were gained through corruption, subterfuge, or at the cost of the native peoples."

Anna blinked at him, "You are not one for your class, Mr. Bates."

"As I said, I wasn't born to the title I hold." John winked and offered her his arm again. "Though it's to be inherited if I ever have children."

"And would those children also be the heirs to the throne of Bavaria?"

John snorted, "If my father had his way but not if I get mine."

"Then do you have your eye on another eligible young lady?" Anna tried to laugh but John noted how quickly she stopped when he looked at her. "Oh Mr. Bates, I think I've given you the wrong impression."

"And what impression is that?"

"That I'm a lady you could marry." Anna shook her head, "I'm not a lady and I don't pretend to be."

"You're a lady to me," John raised her hand to his lips. "And I've never met a finer one who refused to wear gloves in public."

"Perhaps I wanted to feel your lips on my skin." The words escaped faster than she meant because her hand flew from his grasp to cover her mouth. "That was incredibly forward of me. Please forgive me."

"No." John smiled at her widening eyes, "Because I rather enjoyed it."

"Mr. Bates," Anna tried to find breath to speak. "You and I… I think we need more time to get to know one another."

"I quite agree." He led her back to where Branson waited, skimming rocks over the pond's surface to the angry glares of the ladies and gentlemen passing by. "I'm taking dinner by myself tomorrow night, a rare event, and I'd like you to come."

"I'd need someone else to come or else it'd be considered improper."

"For a woman who's not a lady you seem very aware of how these things are perceived."

"When you've worked you way up from nothing you've got to school yourself in the delicacies of society." Anna stopped, Branson noticing them and dropping the other rocks in his hand to splash into the pond. "If you can invite the Crawley family then it would be appropriate for me to come."

"I'll do that." John offered his hand for hers again, "May I?"

"You'll spoil me."

"I intend to." John kissed her hand again, darting his tongue out to hear her harsh intake of breath. "Until tomorrow evening, Ms. Smith."

"Until then." She nodded at him and then walked to Branson, who escorted her back to the car.


	3. A Glorious Evening

Anna fussed with the dress until her maid slapped her hand away. "You'll muss it and then have to find a new one."

"Are you sure about this one Gwen?" Anna stood still as Gwen pinned a piece. "And I'm so sorry you're having to help dress me. This feels so unnatural."

"Doesn't it just?" Gwen bent down, pinning up the hem. "I'm just glad Lady Mary's been trying to give this to you for ages. I already knew what I'd do with it when you got it."

"What do you mean?"

"I assumed," Gwen crawled along, pinning more of the hem, "That you'd give it to me and then I'd make an evening dress that my Mr. Harding would just go mad for. Still might."

"It'll be too short."

"That's the point." Gwen winked at her, "Now hold still before I stick this pin in your foot by mistake."

"You want a short dress?"

"It's more for the bedroom, if you get my meaning." Gwen's words muffled a bit with the pins in her mouth but Anna still gave a little gasp.

"You're planning on seducing your husband?"

"When you get married," Gwen pinned up another piece and then rocked back on her heels to inspect the work. "You find you enjoy a few things about the bedroom when it's not just meant for sleeping."

"If you're talking about-"

"That's exactly what I'm talking about." Gwen pulled the pins from her mouth and grabbed her needle and thread. "When you find the man you'd risk getting caught in a dark corner with, you'll need an excessively short nightdress too."

"I thought the dress for those occasions was no dress at all." Anna giggled and then hissed when Gwen poked her with a needle. "That was unkind."

"I was told not to corrupt you or Mrs. Hughes'll take my head." Gwen kept her stitches small and straight. "Though I was hoping you called me for a fitting because you wanted something from my shop."

"I do. But this is a grand dinner and the influx of those of late has told me I don't have the wardrobe for that kind of thing." Anna sighed at herself, frowning into the mirror. "What's a girl like me, who grew up with nothing, supposed to do with five different forks at dinner?"

"Use them from the outside in and the top down." Gwen fluffed the edge of the dress to make it hang naturally before pulling the next bit to sow.

"I learned that at school."

"If you're speaking rhetorically you should say so before you leave a question for me to answer."

"I thought you knew not to answer a rhetorical question." Anna lifted her arms above her head at Gwen's bidding and peeked down at the dress. "What'll you do with the rest of the fabric?"

"I'm sure there's a way to make something Mr. Harding'll love." Gwen winked and then bent to tuck an edge and sew it in place. "Otherwise, you look fabulous."

"I owe you my life."

"It's not that dramatic." Gwen stood up, gathering her things. "And I think you saved me a considerable deal now that I can take these scraps and make something with them."

"Just don't tell me if they worked." Anna grinned back at her, stepping down to view herself in the mirror. "It looks as if it were made for me."

"That's the idea." Gwen adjusted a sleeve. "Just remember a shawl or something. It's not meant to retain heat."

"I won't forget." Anna hugged her, "Thank you again."

"Next time I fit you for something it's at my shop, understand?"

"Understood." Anna saw her to the door and Mrs. Hughes took her the rest of the way as Anna returned to her small vanity.

Careful of the dress and its swishing skirt, Anna sat on the edge of the stool and eyed her choices before selecting those that could bring a faint blush to her cheeks but understate her. A knock at her door had Anna coughing past a surprise burst of powder but she looked up at the mirror to see Mrs. Hughes there. "Is this about paying Gwen?"

"No. That account is settled and I did put her down in your diary for next week. Your mother's coming to town and you mentioned she was looking for a new style. I thought I could help you kill two birds with one stone."

"And this is why you're the leader of my house, Mrs. Hughes." Anna finished, taking a small dab of scent to both wrists and just under her jaw where the bone ended. "Mother'll love Gwen's shop. Even if my father won't approve how much she'll spend there."

"Your father sees it as a good return on investment and that's enough for him so he'll see your mother's contributions as paying back into the business."

"You're right." Anna laughed, catching Mrs. Hughes's face in the mirror again. "Is there something else?"

"Mr. Green's in the library."

"What?" Anna almost overturned her bottle of scent and only just rescued it from spilling over the vanity surface. "Who allowed him into this house?"

"One of the footman was distracted by Lady Mary's driver and he slipped inside." Mrs. Hughes wrung her hands. "I'm so sorry miss. It's a horrible event and I hope you'll not-"

"I'm aware that this is no one's fault and your apology is not necessary. Unless you meant it as a way to stand with me in what I think is a show of solidarity."

"Very much that miss." Mrs. Hughes coughed, "Should I have Mr. Carson escort him out by the scruff?"

"No. I need to handle this once and for all since hints have obviously gone over his head." Anna checked herself one last time in the mirror. "Did you say Lady Mary was here?"

"Arrived just as Mrs. Harding was leaving."

"Then we're already late." Anna stood, "I'll give him no more than five minutes and then, whatever else he has to say, he can keep to himself."

"I hope he does."

"Let's keep that note of positivity on our minds then."

They descended the stairs, Mrs. Hughes breaking off to retrieve Anna's coat, and Anna pushed into the library. A man, flipping idly through a book under a large painting of a ship battling a storm at sea, turned so quickly he almost dropped the book. Barely catching it, he tried to smile at Anna but all she could do was grimace at what sounded like a page tearing.

"I do hope you respect the books in your own library better than you have in mine." Anna held up a hand to stop him coming closer. "That's not necessary and, better, if you don't approach me."

"I see you're dressed for the evening." He clasped his hands behind his back. "I hope I'm not delaying you from an important engagement."

"You are but I'll give you five minutes of my time." Anna forced a false smile. "How can I help you this evening Mr. Green?"

"You could return any of the hundred letters or messages I've sent you since I met you at Lord Gillingham's ball." Green sauntered toward her but Anna held her ground. "That would've been a start."

"I was hoping my silence would prove to you not only my disinterest but also my class." Anna took a breath, "As it is, I see the thing to do is return the mass of correspondence you've kept with yourself in this matter."

"Kept with myself?" Green scoffed a laugh, "I poured out my soul to you, Ms. Smith. I thought you would accept the gift of my heart as it's all I've used to think since I met you."

"Knowing what I do about your fancies and proclivities, Mr. Green, I very much doubt you were thinking about me with that organ in your body." Anna shook her head, "As it stands, "I've no interest in a continued correspondence or any shadow of a relationship with you, Mr. Green, which I made excessively clear when you first propositioned me at Lord Gillingham's ball."

"I think you're confused by your own feelings."

"That's highly unlikely since my feelings have never been clearer." Anna walked to the wall and pulled a cord. "As I said, I've other engagements this evening and you've already taken too much of my time."

The door opened and Mrs. Hughes stood there, her mouth pursed in a hard line that gave no quarter to Mr. Green. Ana turned to her. "Would you collect the letters and messages Mr. Green's sent to the house? I believe he deserves them back."

"Anna-" Green stepped toward her but Anna recoiled. "I've given you my heart."

"Then I apologize for the confusion that ever indicated to you I wanted it." Anna nodded at him. "I do hope you find it in yourself to still enjoy what's left of your evening, Mr. Green, as I need to attend to mine."

She left the room, taking her coat from the footman, and greeting a bored Mary near the motor. They climbed in together and once the driver situated himself, they were off. Anna settled into the seat to heave a sigh of relief.

"What've you done that gives you cause to make that sound?"

"I finally, I hope, rid myself of the pestilential Mr. Green."

"The friend of Tony Foyle?"

"I don't know if I would've called them friends?"

Mary shrugged, "They shared a room at boarding school. No matter how you feel about someone, there's a bond there."

"I'll always be grateful for the bond we formed."

"But we like one another."

Anna smiled, "You're one of my truest friends."

"That happens when you've helped to conceal scandal." Mary sighed, "do you ever worry that perhaps your once chance for love passed you by while you were busy looking elsewhere?"

"I hope you're not about to say that man I once helped you-"

"Oh, not him," Mary batted her hand to knock the idea away. "It's more about Matthew and I."

"I thought you were all settled on that score."

"We were but now that my mother's pregnant again its…" Mary rubbed at her eyes. "I know Sybil would say I'm being selfish and silly but I can't be a solicitor's wife. It's not in my nature to be domestic or contained. I'm built to run a big house and oversee a grander design than the local school board of trustees."

"And you couldn't adapt?" The motor pulled to a halt and Anna waited for the door to open before taking the driver's hand.

"Not like that. I'm not built for frugality on that scale."

"You'd learn."

"Not like that." Mary shook her head, pulling her coat tighter as a chill blast of wind ripped through their very bones. "I'm not rampant in my spending and I know ho to invest. But I can't live on the kind of pittance he'd expect."

"Would you really give up someone as good as he is just to find title and position?"

"It's what I'm bred to do." Mary led Anna to the door and ducked inside as it opened. "I can't fight who I am."

"If I called you spoiled would that offend you?" Anna chuckled, sliding her arms free of the coat. "Because it sounds like you'll try and guarantee your happiness with money instead of someone who loves you."

"It's difficult to differentiate the two in my position."

"It's the same in every position, Mary." Anna went to say something else but her words froze in her throat as John entered the foyer.

"Ladies, may I escort you to the drawing room? We're just chatting as we wait but I think the other guests'll be excited to see you."

"Given it's my parents and sisters I doubt that."

John grinned at Mary, kissing her gloved hand. "I hope you don't mind the impertinence when I tell you it's more than you parents and sisters."

Mary's eyes narrowed, "I do hope, Baron, you're not a gossip monger."

"Hardly. They were invited at your grandmother's behest and even someone with my reach can't reach farther than she does." John faced Anna, holding her hand so gently she almost considered it made of glass. "It's a pleasure to see you, Ms. Smith."

"It's an honor to be invited."

"This dinner's in your honor."

"I hope you're not serious, Baron. I'm not the kind of guest-"

John laughed, holding up a hand as her face fell. "I apologize for the joke that I now realize might've been at your expense. I merely meant that without your impetus I'd dine alone, as I usually do when I'm in London."

"We need to find you more friends, Baron." Mary fell in step with them as they walked the hall to the drawing room.

"If only I could tell the wheat from the tares, Lady Mary, but my eye, alas, is not so fine." He stopped, "Perhaps you'd like to suggest a few who might want nothing but my company instead of my time and money."

"We're all time and money Baron." Mary nodded her thanks at him as he opened the door to the drawing room. "Though I believe the door is usually handled by a footman."

"Traditionally." John smiled at her and Mary continued into the room but Anna caught what she knew was a comment kept for her. "Old habits die hard."

"I rather like the idea that I can open and close doors on my own." Anna murmured quietly to him.

"Frugality and self-sufficiency."

"Exactly that." Anna took his hand as he led her into the room.

Immediately a woman set on her, kissing both cheeks faster than Anna could blink, and she only knew her oppressor by the breathy voice. "It's so good to see you. Only Mary tells us anything about you and it's so difficult to find your father not engaged in some kind of business meeting so your mother is never free to accept our invitations. I do hope you're not too upset that we've rather spoiled whatever private plans you had for yourself this evening. But it was the only night Robert and I had on our way from Paris and we couldn't turn down an invitation from Baron Rothschild anymore than we could say no to an opportunity to see you. How do you two know one another?"

It took Anna a moment to sort through the stream of information given so quickly she was sure every other word had been nothing more than an intake of breath. Anna swallowed and tried to find the question the shining blues seems poised to accept. "It's good to see you as well, Lady Grantham, and Baron Rothschild and I met at the Princess of Bavaria's birthday ball. He was kind enough to offer this dinner since I know Mary."

"Oh," Lady Grantham put a hand over her heart and turned her dramatically pouty eyes to John. "You're took kind John."

"I'm no more kind than someone should be when we finds friends among the friends of our friends." He turned to the door as it opened, "It appears dinner is ready, if you're all ready to go in."

The dinner itself was conversation dominated by familial arguments, familiar opinions, and the occasional story that had more than one face either reddening or a voice muttering their own commentary in the background. Through each course Anna caught John's eyes settling on her as much as he could. He played the perfect host, speaking the guests on his left and right in appropriate order, but his eyes rarely left Anna if there was a lull.

She shifted and fidgeted under his gaze but the would return it as often as she could. It was impossible to look anywhere else and Mary, sitting to her side, eventually gave up trying to speak to her. Anna barely managed her utensils and passed most courses eating very little. It was as if all eyes were on her but the only eyes that mattered would not turn away for anything.

When they moved through, John encouraged Lord Grantham to go with him, claiming they would be disappointing company to one another. Lord Grantham grudgingly agreed and Anna managed to find a temporary position next to John as they moved back to the drawing room. "I believe Lord Grantham wanted a chance to wax rhapsodic about your more nostalgic of memories."

"More like commiserate on the lucky state of my bachelorhood."

Anna slowed her pace, "Would you want to remain as you are?"

"I don't believe anyone wants to remain as they are." John held the door and Anna declined the offer for cards that took the four Crawley women to a table.

"Baron?" Anna and John turned at the sound of Mary's voice, her eyes keeping their focus on the cards she shuffled and then dealt with ruthless efficiency. "You told me you'd have guests tonight that were not just my family and I find that's all who came tonight."

"I apologize if I led you on but they informed they would only be available for a nightcap. I expect them shortly." John bowed to her and went to say something to Anna but Lord Grantham pulled him away for a conversation that soon had Anna listening with half her attention.

Before their conversation could envelop them for longer than five minutes, the butler entered the room and John stood. Putting out a hand to keep Lord Grantham in his seat, John followed the butler to the hall. In another minute he returned, grinning at Mary. "May I present, The Dowager Countess of Grantham, Mrs. Isobel Crawley, and Mr. Matthew Crawley?"

Lord Grantham leapt from his seat. First in an almost militaristic motion at the sight of the Dowager Countess and then in excitement to pump Matthew Crawley's hand as he chattered almost too fast for the younger man to understand. Anna glanced toward Mary, watched how Mary followed Matthew with her eyes before pretending her cards kept her too engrossed to notice when he looked her way.

But with a dissatisfied sigh, Mary soon lost her hand and her mother invited Isobel Crawley to take her place. Now forced from the table she pleaded with her eyes at Anna but Anna, noting Lord Grantham's occupation with his mother prevented him taking all of John's time and John flicking his eyes toward the door and then to her, shrugged and quickly stepped out of the way. As Anna reached John, Matthew reached Mary. Part of her wanted to stay and watch but John opened the door so quietly no one else noticed and Anna followed him into the corridor.

"I hope you don't find this too impertinent."

'Not at all." Anna kept her voice low, as he did, "It saved me rescuing Mary from a confrontation she greatly needs."

"It was the Dowager's design when she insisted I invite them for a nightcap."

"Not dinner?"

"She hosted that at Lady Rosamund's house to ensure they were in the mood to come here afterward." John offered Anna his hand, "May I show you something?"

"Please."

She followed him into his library but instead of stopping there he led her up a winding stair to the second level. There he gestured to a large bay window that overlooked the city. Anna gasped at it, marveling at the beautiful view of the Thames from his window.

"It's beautiful."

"I thought you might enjoy the view of the water."

"And here I thought you were about to show me a secret room where you paint or hide away from the world."

"Not here," John laughed, "That kind of place was a corner cabinet at boarding school when I needed to escape those who tormented me for my Irish accent or the nature of my birth."

Anna bit her lip, "I've an impertinent question of my own but-"

"My mother passed when I was eleven and that's when my father claimed me as his." John directed his focus out the window. "He loved my mother, in his way, and respected her wishes that he not drag me into his world as long as she drew breath."

He scuffed his shoe along the edge of a wooden plank, hands in his pockets. "I think she was afraid I'd become like him."

"I don't know much about Lord Rothschild myself so I can't say one way or the other."

John smiled, turning to her. "I'm not like him. Or my full-blooded siblings. There's enough differences between us that no one would mistake me for one of them if I didn't have to use my name."

"Are you proud of that?"

"Not to the point where I would be so prideful as to refuse their aid or their invitations. I'm not bitter about what I am anymore than I am ignorant of the constraints it represents to them and myself." John took a breath, "It's what makes this possible."

"This house?"

"This offer." John turned to her, "I told you I wasn't interested in buying your business and I'm not. But I do want to invest in it. I've inspected your portfolio and made enough inquiries about your business practices to trust what you could offer me as far as a return on my investment."

"That would give you a chance to be partner in the firm and I don't know how I feel about it."

"I can promise I'll take no hand in the running of a business that not only floats on its own but sails against the current." John pulled his hands from his pockets to open them to her. "If you're open to the proposition I'd like to suggest we go into business together."

Anna let her mouth twitch slightly. "Part of me wishes you were going to show me a secret cupboard where you hid all your risqué paintings of me."

His face fell slightly, "Are you offended more by this than you would be by that?"

"I'm not offended… by either thought, though both should offend me n their own ways." Anna took a breath. "I must apologize for believing there was more to your interest than my business."

"There is, much more, it's just…" John chewed the inside of his cheek. "My family is adamant I take the hand of the Princess of Bavaria, as I told you yesterday. To avoid their interest in you, should I court you, they must believe it's entirely professional."

"Why?"

"Because if Princess Vera thought you were anything but a business partner she'd tear you to shreds and then scatter the ashes of the life she'd burn down around you." John shook his head, "She's not kind and she's jealous. More importantly she's convinced I'll marry her."

"Then she doesn't know you."

"No," John smiled at Anna. "She doesn't."

"So you want a smokescreen to disguise why you'd want to meet with me in more… clandestine settings?"

"It would help my attempts to court and woo you, if that's desirable."

Anna noted how his fingers twitched and interlaced before pulling apart only to repeat the process. "I find myself quite at your mercy in that regard, John."

"Truly?"

"Truly." Anna risked a hand over his fingers. "I couldn't tear myself away from your gaze at dinner. I know you noticed because your eyes couldn't tear away from me."

"I could no sooner refuse to gaze at an angel." John shifted his hand to take her fingers into his delicate grip. "I do hope you don't mind my impertinence when I ask if I can kiss you now."

Anna nodded, "I think I'd enjoy that."

His head lowered slowly and Anna let her eyes fall closed when his lips touched hers. At first neither moved, as if confused as to where to go from this moment. But soon one of John's hands came up to hold along her jaw and he shifted his lips over hers.

They lost themselves to the kiss for another moment before John pulled away. "That was…"

"Beautiful, John." Anna traced his hands and then over his cheekbone to try and shift a lock of hair from his forehead. "I'd very much accept you as a partner with the promise we'd do that again."

"We'll do more than that, if you'll allow." John bent so his forehead touched hers. "I want to know you better Anna. To continue knowing you until its indistinguishable where I end and you begin."

"Why?"

"Because one day," John teased her, drawing back to lead her down the stairs. "I'm going to show you a secrete cupboard where I'll have stashed paintings of you."

"Painted how?"

John paused, bending to whisper past her ear and leave Anna shivering. "In the most complete picture of ecstasy I can manage."


	4. Late for a Very Important Date

John checked his watch and shook his head. "Trains. They're always late."

"He'll be along sir." Branson, leaned against the wall, flipped another page in the newspaper. "There's some unrest in Serbia."

"Is there?" John barely heard him as a train whistle sounded from a distance. "I hope this is Talbot's train."

"It's the only one from Scotland until tomorrow morning." Branson turned another page. "So unless he got waylaid somewhere he's on this train."

"Or unless he made sure he was waylaid somewhere." John shook his head, "Man like that can't help but attract women."

"That fine of a man is he?" Branson snorted, folding his paper up. "Can I ask a question that might be a bit impertinent?"

"What is it?" John faced him as the train pulled into the station, rushing steam and the crank of the brakes screeching to hide their conversation.

"If you're a Rothschild then why don't you sound anything like a German or an Austrian?"

"I grew up in London and my mother was Irish." John put his hands in his pockets, ignoring those around them. "I didn't move into my father's home until I was older."

"And you never picked up the accent?"

"I spent too much time in boarding schools after that." John shrugged, "I was never as posh as all of them."

"But you fit in with them?"

"Never." John turned at the sound of another man's voice, his large smile taking over his face. "He was always the black sheep at school."

"At least I got to stay in school because I didn't try to deflower the headmaster's daughter." John took the man into an embrace and clapped him heavily on the back. "It's good to see you Henry."

"And you John." Henry extended a hand toward Branson. "And you?"

"Tom Branson, driver for Mr. Bates here."

"He's going by 'Mr. Bates' now?" Henry snorted, "Never did like the way 'Rothschild' hung around your neck did you?"

"It's a bit more like a chain than a necktie." John put a hand to Henry's shoulder. "This way. We've got things to discuss."

"Right." Henry managed his bag, walking toward the cars parked in front of the station. "I was told you had some kind of intense plans for the future. Your father… He's not entirely excited by what you're offering."

"Then my father needs to better understand that the money he gave me is mine to use as I will. That's what this is, a chance to grow my fortune instead of relying on his like every one of my other siblings." John shook his head, opening the door and allowing Henry to get into the rear of the car while Branson took his place at the front. "I need these contracts finalized before I go back to Vienna."

"And you're sure you want to finalize those deals with someone as new as this shipping magnate?"

"Isn't it a good investment?"

"Not if the rumors of war are true." Henry reached over the seat to snag Branson's paper. "This thing about Serbia isn't just a dispute easily solved with some nice promises and interesting platitudes."

"What do you know about it?"

"I'm a lawyer for the Rothschild family John. I've got some interesting connections and I've met more than a few interesting people. Ever heard of Evelyn Napier?"

"No, should I have?"

"He's the one working with some complicated governmental organizations that are trying to avoid war. It's a mess but he's the best man I know for that kind of job. He's been telling me about how difficult it's all been given the unrest."

"Will it matter?"

"It might effect everything." Henry shrugged, "How do you depend on a shipping magnate when there could be war ships?"

"Given the strength of her company I think there's a high chance she'll be governmentally contracted."

"War profiteering?"

"We've all got to make a living." John leaned back in his seat, "And how else will you pay for all those hotels you visit in the Alps if you're not helping my family expand their fortune?"

"I could turn to doing good works."

"Then you'd have to give up all the women in your life who are only with you because you've got the money to pay for the fine champagne and the lovely places you take them." John pointed out the window, "And that's the location of my newest potential acquisition."

"You're buying it?" Henry frowned, "I thought the contract was drawn up to reflect an investment, not a buyout."

"I said that incorrectly." John shook his head, "It is just an investment."

"Just be sure you know what you're talking about before I draw up the contract. I don't want anything going into it that you'll regret later or that might make it difficult for the two of you to work it out later."

"I'm sure you'll get the language right to reflect the unity between the two of us so we make this the best for the both of us."

"Given how you talk about this woman I get the feeling that you're not just hoping to make her a business partner."

"That's all she is."

"John," Henry shook his head, clicking his tongue against his teeth. "That's not all she is and you know it. I can see right through it because I remember when you had your little crush on that girl… What was her name?"

"It was Sara and it's nothing like that."

"Nothing like wanting to avoid your possible future bride." Henry lowered his voice, "I know what your father had planned in that direction."

"Doesn't mean he's right."

"And it doesn't mean he'll stop just because you've told her you're not interested." Henry shuddered, "I still remember the first time I met her. Horrible woman."

"I would've thought you could've helped convince my father it was a foolish idea to put us in a match together."

"No more than I can convince him that trying to put any money into Bavaria is a bad idea." Henry paused, "Why are you going back to Vienna then? Your father's not called you home and you're not needed to clean up any of your siblings' messes at the moment."

"I've some business there I need to handle." John tapped his finger on the newspaper, "If Serbia is having the problems the news suggests then it's more important than ever that I put myself on the right side of my financial obligations. Besides, I wasn't planning on staying London long anyway. I didn't even have any business here until the night of Princess Vera's birthday."

"Which I warned you against attending, I'll say that again."

"If I hadn't attended then I wouldn't have found this opportunity."

"Found a woman more like." Henry tapped the seat and Branson's eyes flicked back to them in the mirror. "It's a woman, yes? The whole reason he got involved in all of this is because there's a woman involved correct?"

"Far as I've seen sir." Branson winked at John in the mirror. "But it's more because of what she represents I think."

"Do tell."

"Don't tell because there's nothing to tell." John opened the door as the car stopped. "I had more faith in you Mr. Branson."

"Consider it a bit misplaced sir." Branson leaned on the seat as the two men got out. "Do you need me for anything else this afternoon?"

"I'll need you to retrieve Ms. Smith at around six. We'll be signing the contract here tonight and then dining together. She should already be aware of the details but I'll send another note along to make sure."

"Understood sir." Branson drove the car away from the house and John led Henry inside.

"Ms. Smith?" Henry clacked his teeth together, "Smith Shipping?"

"It's AS Shipping, actually."

"But it was formerly SS Shipping, as in Samuel Smith Shipping?"

"That's right." John paused, frowning, "How do you know that?"

"Because your good friend, Mr. Robert Crawley, took some time to invest in them at one point."

"I believe he's known as the Earl of Grantham in polite society."

"Whatever he's known as…" Henry waved a dismissive hand. "I'm more interested in the prospects of his eldest daughter."

"Lady Mary's quite taken with a Mr. Matthew Crawley."

"Local solicitor, yes I know. Former of Manchester."

John stood in the doorway, folding his arms over his chest. "What's got you so interested in the affairs of the Crawley family?"

"Let's just say that their finances aren't what they used to be. A few… poor investment choices on behalf of your friend, Lord Grantham, might've ruined all the opportunities for them in the future." Henry clacked his teeth together. "But I've got a few tricks up my sleeve if you want to talk about how you could help them."

"Robert would never take my help. It'd be against his dignity and his honor."

"Then he's a fool and you'll have to work around him." Henry pointed toward the study, "Should we draft in here?"

"It still doesn't explain why you're so informed as to the minute details of the family."

Henry squirmed, "Let's just say I know a thing or two about an adventure that Lady Mary Crawley might've had that she'd rather no one knew about."

"What kind of adventure?"

"The kind that might affect the head of AS Shipping." Henry put his bag on the table, "There was an incident that I think you deserve to know about."

"Is this the digging you did up in Scotland? The delay for this whole process?"

"It's exactly that because there was a woman at Duneagle who claimed to know that Lady Mary Crawley had a Turkish diplomat die in her bedroom and your Ms. Smith helped her move the body."

"If she didn't kill him then why would it matter?"

"Because it means they weren't truthful with the officers and lying to an officer of the law is a prosecutable offense."

"Then Lady Mary simply wanted to avoid a scandal."

"There's a difference between avoiding talk that she's no longer a virgin and moving a dead body that could implicate her in the death itself."

"He died of heart failure."

"You know that a hard hit to the chest can stop the heart yes?" Henry waited but John only frowned. "I'm not saying it doesn't speak volumes to Ms. Smith's character that she aided a friend in need and then kept a rather awkward secret but it does say something about the type of scandal you could reap on your own head if you get into business with this women."

"Her personal life doesn't matter to me. I'm interested in her business acumen."

"Have you sketched her yet?"

"Henry-"

"Have you, John Bates, put pen or pencil to paper to sketch her?" John turned his eyes to the floor and Henry scoffed, "You artists-at-heart and your need to quantify your emotions through tangible actions."

"It's not so different from your expensive hotel rooms and your bottles of champagne."

"Mine aren't the subjects of my heart's desires, John."

"Mine haven't been either."

"If I found your little sketch book what would I find in there?"

John walked over to his desk and opened the long drawer. Picking up the book there he tossed it to Henry. "See for yourself."

Henry opened it, flipping through the pages for a moment, and then pitched it back to John. "That's not your real one John."

"But we're not here to discuss sketches, Henry, we're here to draw up a legal document that Ms. Smith and her solicitor will be over to verify in a few hours."

"Her solicitor, by the way, is Mr. Matthew Crawley." Henry took a seat at a table and pulled documents from his bag. "That's why I know so much about the family."

"Sometimes I'm afraid of what you'd find out about me if you dedicated yourself to uncovering all the dark and dirty secrets I might have hidden." John brought papers of his own to the table and a pad for notes. "It terrifies me the kinds of ledgers you must keep about me for my father."

"I've already told him everything you did in school. That was what got me hired as his lawyer and investigator in the first place." Henry winked, "After that… Well, if we're honest, your life got nothing but boring after that. It's all acquisitions and business deals, and the occasional fine bottle of wine you have not even splurged to buy yourself."

"You'd think that would make my father proud."

"The problem is that you never cared one way or the other about making your father proud."

"It takes respect to want to make someone proud of you." John shrugged, "I've just never really respected my father."

"Despite what you may think about him," Henry raised his head for a moment to meet John's eyes. "He is proud of you."

"Task at hand Henry." John selected a first sheet. "This is the division of assets and the investment I'm making into three of the ships on the line."

"Alright then," Henry scanned the page, noting something on a pad. "Then I guess I've got my work cut out for me don't I?"

They spent all afternoon in the study and only broke when the butler knocked on the door. John pulled the papers together, stacking them neatly into a file as Henry pressed the page before them dry. He blew over it, scanning a few of the phrases and then shrugged.

"It's not my best work but it'll accomplish what you need."

"Does it treat both parties equally?"

"Of course. But you know," Henry put it back on the table and collected his things, "If I'd known you'd fight so hard for her side I wouldn't have done all that research to make sure you weren't getting swindled."

"Why's that?"

"There's no chance for her to swindle you if you're too busy swindling yourself."

"Making sure there's fair compensation-"

"I'm not arguing with you John, I'm just…" Henry flapped his arms to his sides. "Do you even know what you want anymore?"

"What do you mean?" John led them to the door, taking the stairs to their rooms.

"When I knew you in school you had your heart set on one thing: to beat your siblings in the race to your father's affections. And I can't say if that ever worked but you tried your damndest to get it."

"I never did, if that answers your question." John walked into his room, pulling at his tie as Andrew stepped forward to take his coat and help with the waistcoat. "Why do you ask?"

"Because once you realized you'd never get his love the way you wanted it you turned to making as money as you could. And you were brilliant at it but… I get the feeling you've lost your love for slaughtering the market."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"No," Henry shook his head, stepping out of the way as Andrew moved about helping John divest himself of his day clothes and get into his black tie. "I just think you're still trying to find out what you want and you've no idea."

"I know I don't want the Princess of Bavaria." John stopped, his hands on the fastenings of his trousers. "Don't you have dinner to dress for?"

"I thought we were having a conversation."

"Not one where I drop my trousers in front of you." John nodded at the door. "The end to the conversation, Henry, is that we're all looking for what we want. For the moment it's for this merger to happen so I can invest in a shipping company."

"I've always loved how well you lie to yourself." Henry shook his head, walking out of the room, "This is one of those times."

John dropped his trousers and stepped out of them while accepting the black ones from Andrew. "I don't suppose you've got an opinion about it do you?"

"Should I?" Andrew held out John's shirt and helped secure the cuffs with a pair of plain links.

"Do you think you know what you want?"

"I agree with you sir, no one knows what they want." Andrew pulled the tie out as John finished buttoning his shirt and then his trousers around it. "We're all just trying to find those things that make us happy."

"What makes you happy Andrew?"

"I've a dream of being a farmer."

John paused, making an approving sound as he lifted his chin for Andrew to tie the bow tie. "What would you farm?"

"Pigs and goats."

"No sheep or cattle?"

"Cattle are too expensive and sheep are stupid." Andrew ducked under John's arms to help him into his waistcoat. "Pigs are intelligent and they tend to feed well so you can use them for all kinds of meat. Goats you can use for milk, meat, and even to keep the grass down."

"You've thought a lot about this." John turned to him, "What made you so interested in it?"

"I guess growing up surrounded by buildings makes you long for a place where grass might really be greener." Andrew held out John's coat and then waited for John to slide his arms through the sleeves. "I've heard farmer's stories of it like fairy tales."

"Then perhaps," John snapped his arms to straighten his coat and checked himself in the mirror. "I might have a solution for you."

"Really sir?"

"I need to invest in something to help a friend and I wonder if you could be the solution to that." John wagged a finger at him. "Let me think on it and I'll tell you when I've come to a conclusion."

"I'll be waiting with baited breath sir."

"Be careful you don't turn blue." John winked at him and left the room to greet his butler. "Everything ready?"

"Yes sir. Ms. Smith and Mr. Crawley are in the study."

"Mr. Branson is desirably punctual." John pulled at his cuffs, "Have his pay increased ten percent. He deserves it for such dedicated work."

"I'll make a note of it sir." He paused, "Might I ask a question sir?"

"Other than that one Spratt?"

"Sir," Spratt ignored the jibe, "Should I prepare a room for Ms. Smith?"

"Why would you ask that?"

"I overheard the conversation with Mr. Talbot earlier and I thought-"

"Spratt," John put a hand up to stop the butler speaking. "If Ms. Smith ever needs a room here, she'll ask for it. Otherwise I'd advise you to ignore whatever Mr. Talbot suggests to you in regards to Ms. Smith."

"I just thought, since you'd showed her the library, you had other intentions where she was concerned."

"Spratt, stop trying to make assumptions." John shook his head, leaving the butler at the top of the stairs. "And make sure dinner's ready for when we're finished. I don't want anyone famished and waiting."

"Yes sir."

John entered the study, noting Anna in a cerulean gown, Matthew Crawley at her side reading the contract, and Henry explaining a few of the details on the page. They all turned as John closed the door behind him and he shook hands with Matthew before kissing Anna's. "I apologize for being a bit late. I was waylaid."

"The duties of a man of importance are never finished." Matthew shrugged, pointing to the contract. "From what I've read it appears all in order so this might be the swiftest signing I've ever notarized."

"Henry's always been concise and exact about his work. It's what makes me appreciate him." John shot Henry a glare, "And he's very good at what he does."

"I'll say. This is the tightest contract I've ever read." Matthew looked it over again. "If I'm not mistaken you've even given us a bit of the upper hand in all of this."

"I find my investments flourish most often when left to their own devices." John stepped forward, "Do you agree to the terms outlined here Ms. Smith?"

"Under the suggestion of my solicitor I'd be a fool not to sign." Anna took the pen Henry offered her. "This is possibly the best business decision I've ever made."

"Or the worst if the papers are right about the unrest in Serbia." Matthew shuddered, "I can't imagine what happens when it all comes about."

"Then I make warships instead of shipping lines." Anna shrugged and handed the pen to John. "Unless you've something against war profiteering, Mr. Bates."

"I've something against not having jobs that allow people to feed their families." John signed his name and then stepped back to allow Matthew and Henry to add their names to the paper. "Though I do have a question I'd like to ask you in private, if I could Ms. Smith."

"Of course." She followed him to a corner and interlaced her fingers so her arms hung straight in front of her. "How can I be of service Mr. Bates?"

"Could you give me the details necessary to better understand a favor you did for Lady Mary in the case of one Turkish diplomat?"

Anna raised an eyebrow, "I do hope you don't listen to rumors, Mr. Bates, as that would be a bit disappointing."

"It was something that gave Henry pause about your character."

"And you trust a man who spends his weekends with married women who want an escape to the Alps?"

John let his mouth quirk up into a smile. "I think the two of you are evenly matched."

"Then I'll have you know that he died while trying to assault Lady Mary. And the horrors of his particular existence meant that his body wasn't strong enough for the exertion. His heart stopped and all I did was move him to his own room." She waited, "Satisfied?"

"Yes. And, so you know, it was only with married woman once. The other times Henry tries to seduce heiresses or other leading ladies of society. He's flirtatious and they seem to enjoy a little getaway."

"He's a bit of a cad."

"He's definitely a cad." John grinned as Anna hid her laugh in her hand. "Although I do have another request, if you're not occupied for the remainder of the evening."

"I do hope you mean after dinner."

"Of course."

"Then my schedule is free." Anna's forehead creased a bit, "What is it?"

"Do you remember the suggestion you made about my paintings?"

"I remember you saying you'd show me the risqué paintings you made of me." Anna smiled at the heat that grew in John's cheeks. "And I also recall not being offended by the implication.

"Then you'd be interested in seeing those paintings?"

"You actually paint?" John nodded and Anna made a snort of approval. "What about your paintings, Mr. Bates?"

"I'd like to paint you." John put up a hand, "It's nothing lurid, I promise."

"I thought you'd already painted me."

"There are paintings but they're not you. It's… It's hard to paint someone you're trying to pull from your memory instead of seeing before you."

"You want me as your model."

"Yes." John stopped himself, realizing hos breathlessly excited he sounded. "I know it's soon but I'll be leaving for Vienna tomorrow night and I'd like to paint you before I go."

"To give you something to remember me by?"

"You could say that." John's eyes met hers and he noted the glint there. "Might you be willing?"

"I think I'd like that a great deal, Mr. Bates. However," She tapped his hand. "Supper first. I'm practically starved."

Dinner was a lively enough affair. The conversation was more intimate between the four of them and when they finished Henry and Matthew made their way out of doors to visit a pub Henry claimed was the source of a great many exciting evenings. John and Anna went into the library and he closed the doors before leading her to the second level.

"I've seen the view before." Anna teased but John walked around the balcony to a stretch of wall.

"This isn't that." He clicked a small notch to the side of the molding and it slid back to reveal a well-lit room with paintings on easels and the tools for painting spread around the room. "This is the place I keep all to myself."

"I'm sure your father discouraged you seeking a future as a painter."

"He wanted me to go into banking but found my skills lay in investment." John took a quick turn around the room to bring the lights as he wanted. "But this is what steadies my mind."

"It's gorgeous." Anna noted and John pivoted to see her frowning at a stack of paintings turned toward the wall. "Are these the implicated paintings?"

"If you'd call them that." He scratched the back of his head as Anna pulled them back to look at them. "They're not-"

"I get the impression you've seen this expression on someone's face before." Anna paused at one and John joined her near it. "But it looks odd on my face."

John said nothing as Anna looked through the rest of the paintings before setting them back to the wall. She turned her face up to him and shook her head. "I think you need a better model, Mr. Bates."

"Would you be willing?"

"I'd be honored." Anna pointed to the screen in the corner of the room. "Just there?"

"If you wish." John gestured to her. "If you want to stay as you are I could sketch and paint you like this."

"This dress, while beautiful, Mr. Bates, isn't comfortable for a sitting." Anna walked back toward the screen. "Ready your materials and I promise I'll be ready shortly."

"As you wish." She disappeared behind the screen and John shed his coat and his tie before rolling up his sleeves and leaving his shoes to the side so he padded over the floor barefoot.

Just as he readied his easel he heard her ask, "Are you ready?"

John turned and words fled. She stood before him, all of her clothing removed and her hair piled on her head, and his mouth dried. Their eyes met and John was sure the world stopped spinning.

"Are you ready Mr. Bates?"


	5. Wouldn't It Be Loverly?

Anna took a deep breath, exhaling slowly as she held the dressing gown around herself. She could hear John moving on the other side of the screen, assembling his tools, and it only deepened the red to her skin. In a moment she pulled her the material from her shoulders and stepped out from behind the screen before she could regret the decision.

"Are you ready?" She asked, hoping the quaver to her voice was lost in the overt confidence she pressed there.

John turned and froze, his jaw dropping almost to his chest at the sight of her. Anna smiled, her hand shaking where she forced it at the hip she propped up to appear nonchalant about it all. Her fingers tremored over her skin but she swallowed to speak again.

"Are you ready Mr. Bates?"

He stuttered and eventually found his voice, clearing his throat so forcefully Anna feared he might injured himself. She put a hand forward but he coughed and motioned her away. "I'm… I'm fine."

"But are you ready?" She shifted her weight from one foot to the other a moment before pointing to the chaise lounge he had set up between a number of empty easels. "Should I start there?"

"Just…"

John hurried to grab a few canvases and spread them over the easels so they circled the chair as if he wanted to capture her from every angle. It only took him a moment but the puckering of Anna's skin, mixed with the flush of his furtive gazes, made it stretch to an eternity. But it truly was only a moment later that his fingers brushed her bare arm and he nodded to the chair.

"If you'll just find whatever position is most comfortable for you."

"I feel a bit out of my element."

John gaped, "You… You came from behind the screen and-"

"And I'm losing my nerve a bit." Anna held up a shaking hand but John covered it with his.

"If you want I could get the dressing gown and-"

"No," Anna shook her head, forcing her eyes closed a moment to regulate her breathing and hopefully stop the pounding of her heart in her chest. "I just… I need you to show me what to do."

John nodded and led Anna to the chaise. She sat on the edge but he held her hand with one of his while the other pressed back on her shoulder to move her over the material to lay back. Her shoulders and back hit the support and he left his grip at her shoulder to settle just above one knee. Without a word she responded and bent it upward toward her body. A slight whisper of his fingers and she settled to the side to extend her other leg while one of her arms held at her chin to support her head on the back of the chair.

"Perfect." John stepped back, "Try not to move."

"Will you paint me now?"

"That would take far longer than we have." John dug around and removed a box full of black pencils. "I'm going to sketch you in as many positions as possible."

"Done this often have you?" Anna risked a look to the side, noting the easels in their places as John sorted through his materials.

"Not in some time." John ducked his head, "Though I do admit to having a professional model in here once."

"Once?"

"Everyone in the house thought I took her to my room but…" John flailed a hand toward the completed canvases he had stacked against the wall. "I tried to paint her, for practice, but all I could see was you."

Anna tried to take a deep breath but her lungs constricted and her heart thundered so hard in her chest it sent blood rushing through her ears. She swallowed and reset herself as John pulled one of the black pencils into his hand. "Then I'd better not disappoint."

"You could never do that." He whispered but she heard him as if he stood right next to her. "If you have to move, warn me."

"Otherwise keep still?"

"It'll be better that way." He assured her and then set to work.

Anna let her gaze wander about the room but her focus always drew back to John. The fire in his eyes had not left, only banked by the appearance of a fervor she associated with the practice of craft. His arms moved in swift, even strokes over the canvases and he occasionally stepped back to look over her the way an expert eyes a piece on display. But even then, in the strictest sense of professionalism, she noted the red to his cheeks and the hitch to his breath.

He moved around the easels, changing the pencils in his hand and occasionally using another material that scratched differently on the canvas. Anna could only follow his movement so far but the sense of his position as he moved behind her or out of her view kept her body quivering between a heat from somewhere inside her and the chill of the room. The fluctuation between the temperatures gave her the occasional shiver but those were nothing compared to the sensation of having his eyes on her.

Eventually he moved back into her view and Anna shifted just slightly. John's forehead creased and then his hand grabbed the easel. Even in the dim light Anna noted the whiteness of his knuckles and she took her turn to frown. Their eyes met and then Anna glanced down at herself before turning bright red.

The flush to the skin of her cheeks echoed in the flush of the delicate skin between her legs. She went to move but then John's hand was on her knee. Their eyes met, the dark drawing material from his hands transferring to her skin as he skated over her with the utmost care. Her own hand trembled as she laid it along his cheek to smooth over the skin there and the occasional prickle of stubble stubbornly pushing its way through.

"Tell me to stop and I won't go any further." His voice sounded deeper, huskier, and his eyes darker than she ever saw them.

"Are you finished with your sketches?"

"Yes." He nodded, swallowing hard enough to bob his Adam's apple in what appeared to be an almost painful shot from his chin to his collar. "Tell me I should let you get dressed and escort you home."

"I'd have to want that." Anna's hand at his cheek glided over his skin.

"If you don't…"

"I want you." She whispered, using her grip to lean toward him. "And since you're leaving I might not have another chance."

"I'll be back."

"I don't want to wait." Anna stopped, her lips so close to his and their eyes unable to focus anywhere else. "I feel like I've already waited my entire life. I hope you won't make me wait any longer."

"If I do…"

"I'll be the happiest woman on the face of the earth."

He took a breath and then nodded. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes."

"Then lie back." His palm pressed her back to lean on the rear of the chaise lounge. She frowned at him but he leaned forward to press a kiss to her forehead. "Trust me, it'll be better this way."

"Had significant practice have you?" Anna tried to laugh but her hands shook slightly and she gripped into the material of the cushion under her.

John stopped, meeting her eyes. "Would it trouble you if I had?"

"I've never…" She turned her eyes down but John put his hands carefully along her cheeks to bring her to look at him.

"It doesn't matter to me and I won't hurt you. I could never hurt you."

"I know." Her fingers trembled as she covered his hand, shifting toward him. "You'll just have to show me."

"That's the easy part." He smiled, moving closer to her. "You'll be a quick study."

"Will I?"

"Of course." John kissed at her forehead, trailing his kisses over her cheeks and down toward her neck as Anna sighed back to lean on the support of the chaise lounge. "For now all you have to do is feel."

Anna went to speak again but John covered her mouth with his and her hands immediately sought support on his shoulders and then his neck to ground her through the kiss. Her fingers dug into the fabric there, softer after a day of wear, and she hitched her breathing as it rubbed her sparking skin. His fingers held her steady while Anna sought to shift under him, keeping her from moving too much until she whined against his lips.

John pulled back, smiling at her, and brushed hair back from her face where it had fallen loose from her securing pins. "You don't want to rush this."

"I want…" Anna frowned, struggling for words and not meeting his eyes as the red on her skin deepened. "I want more and I don't know what that is."

"It's alright." John soothed, one hand smoothing over her arm to hold her hand, bringing her fingers to his mouth. "It's alright to want more and I think I know what you're feeling."

"I feel bare, John." Anna focused on where her fingers still clutched at his shirt. "I feel exposed and on fire and like my whole body might combust and I don't know why."

"I do." His lips grazed her jaw and her cheekbones, tracing the lines of her face with gentle nips and kisses until Anna shivered and leaned back to let her eyes flutter shut. "I know what you feel and I want to help you chase it. I want to help you lift higher than you've ever been and touch the stars themselves."

John pulled back, his fingers lacing with hers and then tracing up the inside of her arm. "But I can only do that if you let me."

Anna swallowed and turned to him. "Make me feel whole John."

His lips covered hers again and Anna sank back into the chaise lounge. Her fingers found the buttons on his waistcoat and slowly pried them apart. John shifted just enough to let the fabric fall to the floor of his secret studio and then moved to put a knee between Anna's slightly spread legs.

Her breath hitched and John paused, hands cupping her face until she nodded and he returned to his slow, sensuous assault on her mouth. Once again, her fingers scrambled against his buttons until her brushed against the skin of his chest. Anna pulled back from the kiss and, before John could react, she placed her hand on the skin she found there.

A gentle flex of her fingers incited a shiver from him and Anna turned up to look at him. John leaned back slightly and went to open his shirt for himself but Anna put her hands over his. Without a word he dropped his arms to hold the cushion under her while Anna finished opening his shirt. She pulled his collar off, dropping it to the floor, and let his shirt hang open as she explored the skin there.

With each shudder and shiver of his muscles under her fingers, Anna slid closer until her lips rested on his skin. John's sigh led Anna to continue her tentative exploration until his fingers circled her wrists. Anna looked up at him as he tipped her back again but did not remove her fingers. A quick shuffle left his shirt on the floor with the clink of his cufflinks falling into his pocket.

Anna shifted her legs over the side of the chaise but John put his hands on her thighs. He moved his legs between hers, pulling her knees to hang over his, and then slid his hands to her hips. Her fingers grazed through the hair on his chest and he leaned toward her as if following her unspoken desire.

Their lips met again, quickly and sporadically as they both tried to find any patch of untouched skin on the face of the other, and Anna delved her tongue into John's mouth. He froze but when Anna attempted to pull back John put a hand to the back of her head and held her still so he could suck at her. The moan she managed to lose into his mouth was only matched by the delving of her fingers through his hair.

John's other hand skimmed over her skin, ratcheting her temperature higher and higher until Anna was sure she might leave singe marks on the furniture under her. But John only seemed to care about following the whimpers and whines she buried in his mouth, his skin, or left to the open air when he skated his teeth and tongue over her neck and toward her collars. And when his hand grazed her breasts she jumped.

It took a moment of soothing kisses for Anna to relax into the sensations and then she groaned at the flick of his fingers, the caress of his lips on her skin, and dug her fingers into the fabric of the cushion when John nipped her breast before sucking a nipple into his mouth. She writhed against him, her nails turning from the material of the chaise to leave crescent-shaped scars on his scalp. Each new excitement to her skin left her heaving and sighing and clawing to try and sink into him. Anything to quench the fire raging through her, centered where she knew she needed something but could not tell him, much less herself, exactly what that would be. Anna only hoped, as she moved her legs to try and bring John closer and chased his mouth or guided him where she thought she needed him, he knew what to do.

And he did.

With John's mouth still teasing over her breasts, and occasionally taking her mouth to answer the muted whines and moans she tried to hide in bites of her lip, his fingers sought another target. When he traced over the crux between her thighs Anna arched her back. In a moment of clarity, in the midst of the haze that engulfed her as John guided her deeper and deeper into the fog of pleasure, Anna wondered if he had started to touch here where he now skated and flicked would she feel complete. Or, perhaps, she might have been too frightened. At the edge of pleasure, the subject of the perfect seduction tried to chase the high instead of fleeing from it and Anna risked a hand away from John's head to follow the fingers now moving between her folds.

He only paused a moment, her reddened skin now covered in grazes from his teeth visible when he lifted his head, but then took her fingers to bring her with him. Anna's eyes closed, scrunched against the riot of sensations she could only handle if she could no longer see it. Instead she committed her sense of touch to appreciating the delicacy of his hand guiding hers where every woman feared to tread. A pathway treated with derision and disdain.

A pathway John seemed determined would lead her to salvation.

Each stroke sent a fizzle over her nerves, playing her like any stringed instrument and she vibrated accordingly. His lips returned to their kisses until Anna was sure John could recreate a mold of her head and shoulders down to her breasts with just the memory on his lips. And when his fingers slipped between her folds to glide there she finally realized it slicked.

She gasped, propriety trying its vain best to break through her conceptions about her actions, and John paused. But his fingers did not leave her skin and her hand, though it shook under the weight of convention and religion and education, refused to move. In a moment they returned to their occupation, John showing her how to follow the minutest of pleasures the way a forest guide might point out plants along the path. Each new sensation they chased together until John slipped a finger inside her.

It stretched and ached a moment but Anna moved with him. Her fingers soon replaced his but it was not the same. A fact she communicated when she moved his fingers back and widened her legs ever so slightly. John obeyed and laid his lips over hers to stroke the inside of her mouth with his tongue the way he stroked inside her body with his fingers.

He crooked his fingers, curved them inside her and glided until he found something. Something that had Anna crying out and leaving her hand flailing against her skin. John continued, caring for this new source of indescribable sensation and returned his thumb to the first place he sparked a reaction on her. Anna twisted and thrashed under him, crying out in what she thought were words but mixed into a mindless jumbled before they could fall from her lips. Whatever she said, however, John seemed to understand and he took to kissing her neck until his fingers finally achieved their goal.

Lights burst behind Anna's eyes and she clutched at John's arm, the back of his neck, his chest, his trousers, anything that might ground her in reality. None of it did as her seemed to all but float away under the weight of pleasure. A pleasure John guided her through as he continued to stroke her with fingers and tongue.

Anna gripped his hair and he paused his ministrations. With a slide over the cushions, she met his lips with hers. They stayed in that position for a moment, mouths dancing over one another as their fingers found places that left the other gasping.

One such place, Anna discovered to her fascination and surprise, was the front of his trousers. John broke away from the kiss with a grunt and she reached back, trying to recoil in what she feared was his reaction of pain. But John took her wrist and led it back to where his trousers tented. He held her gaze as he opened them for her and left her see the dark spot on his pants.

She frowned and then whined when John moved off the chaise. A moment later her face reddened, the pleasure of a few moments ago fading into the realization of her trampling of propriety when John dropped his trousers and pants to the floor near the rest of his clothes. He stood proudly before her, as if her were the one coming from behind the screen to serve as the model, and Anna swallowed.

He put his hand out, as if to reassure her, but Anna grabbed it and pulled John closer. Her fingers brushed over him, whether on accident or as an expressed reaction of her subconscious, she was not sure. All she knew was when John twitched under her she wanted more. She wanted to give him what he gave her but she had no idea how.

John stopped her when she reached forward again, kissing her knuckles. "Not this time."

Anna watched as John swung her so her back met the cool air of the studio as her arm draped over the back of the chaise. He knelt on the floor, hiding himself from her as he spread her legs wide enough for his shoulders to slot between them. She took her turn to gasp at his approach but the swirling patterns his fingers left over her thighs and the attentions of his tongue back on her breasts.

He skimmed lower, covering her abdomen with his affections when his fingers shifted to her knees and then the insides of her thighs. Anna could not lean back, keeping her back as straight as she could manage and trying to support herself with her arm wrapped over the back of the chaise lounge as John's kisses moved lower.

The moment his lips touched where his fingers had led her to pleasure, Anna cried out. Her fingers crunched into the material of the cushion and the chaise back as her back arched when he teethed where her nerves sparked to a blaze. Her thighs pressed into the seat when he put an arm behind her to give her the support she needed to arch her back as his tongue slipped between her folds. Again he sought the tiniest fragment of sensation and chased it until Anna's throat rubbed raw under her cries.

John's fingers and tongue worked in perfect harmony, entering her to press where she shivered and shuddered until Anna worried she might just dissolve into a senseless mass. Quivering and trembling under him, the rising in her body signaled that desirable peak lay just before her. A peak she hit when John used his crooked fingers inside her while sucking soulfully at her nerves. If not for the arm at her back, Anna feared she might've fainted back off the chaise lounge as she succumbed to the rush of climax.

As incoherent as she was, Anna still managed to wrap her aching arm around John's neck as he lifted her into his arms. He made to move but Anna dug her nails in, shaking her head. John dipped his head to hear her whisper, "Here. I want it where it began."

John embraced her to his chest, her lips half-heartedly kissing the skin close to her, and sat down. Anna blinked, noting how John laid back in the chaise lounge and pulled one of her boneless legs to have her straddle him. For all the motion, the thing that brought Anna back to reality was the press of his hot arousal to where hers still raged.

"I thought-"

John shook his head. "There are many ways for this and since it's your first time… It'll be less painful for you this way."

"Painful?" Anna shuddered, her fingers shaking on him but John captured them.

"It's not like that. Not like the horror stories they tell you. It'll stretch you and you will be sore but it's not what you think." John kissed her fingers and then ran a hand over her jaw, pulling her lips to his. "I won't hurt you."

"I know." Anna shifted forward, "Show me."

John's hands went to her hips and lifted her so he brushed over her swollen and sensitive folds. She shivered and met John's eyes. He directed his down and she watched, enthralled and confused and enamored when he left one hand at her hip to use the other to position himself beneath her.

"Slowly." He murmured to her, helping her glide down.

It was not smooth, Anna wincing and shifting to try and find a comfortable position. But John maintained his patience, slipping her up and down so each time she took more of him. When their skin finally met, John as deep inside her as Anna could imagined he could be, he waited. Anna put her hands on the back of his neck and held there until she finally nodded.

He moved them, Anna following his lead. Again, like an experienced traveler leading someone new along the trail, John let her set the pace and only responded with a motion when Anna faltered. Soon they pressed together, the slick slide and the sound of sweating skin drove Anna to chase away her inhibitions. Her lips covered his and she tried new motions that John only corrected to help her find more pleasure.

A pleasure that left her reaching for the now-familiar clime. Her fingers dug into his skin and John lost his patience. Anna's eyes flew open when his speed increased, the snap of his hips against hers sending him impossibly deeper while his fingers found the spot he adored thoroughly to send her shouting out her finish.

She held him close as she felt the fabled finish, John's body settling under her while he slowly softened inside her. Anna held herself close to him, losing all thought in the smell of him, of her on him, of him on her, and the scent of them together. His lips only grazed her forehead and slowly she raised her head to look at him.

"Thank you."

John cupped her face, thumb running over the line of her jaw. "You don't need to thank me."

"But you-"

His finger covered her mouth, a smile over his face. "It was a pleasure to pleasure, Ms. Smith."

Anna kissed his finger, sneaking a lick that left her gasping when she sensed a shift inside her. "Ready again so soon?"

"For you?" John whispered against her lips, "I'd be ready whenever you wish."

"I think," Anna rose, her legs shaking so badly she threw out a hand to catch John's shoulder. "If we'd wish to continue we might consider another venue."

"I've the perfect location." John rose, keeping his grip on her hand. "If you want to continue."

Anna reached on her tiptoes to kiss him again. "I'd like that very much."


	6. Curiouser and Curiouser

John wrapped the dressing gown around her, his trousers hanging loosely about his waist so he could take her hand in his and use the other to hold their clothes close to his body. The house was empty and they padded along in the dark from the second floor of the library to one of the rooms. Once inside he released her to spread their clothes out so her dress would not wrinkle.

He paused, looking at it. "Perhaps I should take you home before I ruin your reputation."

"It's mine to ruin." Anna caught his fingers again, pulling herself close to him so she shifted against the front of his trousers. "And I'd like to risk ruining it with you... again."

"Then I'm, your willing servant." John bent his head to kiss her as her fingers freed him from his trousers. "And I promised you something."

"What?" She paused and he guided her hands from where he began to rise again.

"That you'd get a turn."

"But-"

John kissed her hands and stepped out of his trousers to walk over to the bed. He moved onto the surface and allowed the sink of the duvet to take him as he tugged gently on Anna's hand. She crawled over the surface to join him, the hint of a frown creasing her brow, but John only leaned up to kiss it away. Their fingers interlaced and John slid over the duvet to set his back against the headboard.

"Do I follow you?"

"Only if you want." John took her face between his hands, insisting with his expression that she look at him before he continued. "This is about pleasure, nothing else. If there's anything-"

"I want to." Anna bit back, giving a nervous laugh that John only quieted for a moment with another kiss. "I… I just want something and I don't even know how to express it. I don't have the words I need or the actions or the motions and I… I don't want to ruin it."

"You couldn't possibly do that." John soothed, his thumbs brushing over her cheeks before sliding over her skin to skim her arms and take her hands with his again. "Just follow what feels natural and I'll guide the rest."

Her fingers flexed over him as John leaned back, his own hand skimming her side until she shivered. He pulled back and Anna smiled at him, the shine in her eyes catching the little light from the windows letting the lamps from the street give guide to their motions. "Tickles."

"Does it?" John brushed over her again and Anna twisted away, one of her hands instinctively reaching out to grip his side. Her nails bit into him and John hissed at the act. Anna went to remove her hand but he stopped her, nodding her forward. "It's alright."

"I just… I-" Anna cut herself off mid-sentence, sealing her lips over his.

It took a moment. The first actions were hard, almost clacking their teeth together with the force of her energy. John clutched into the sheets to stop himself taking control from her and waited until her lips softened. As they did, he heard her sigh into his mouth and then lifted his hand to shape gently around her jaw. She leaned into his hold and shifted to slant her mouth over his.

Their tongues tangled and Anna moved closer. Again, her movements betrayed her nerves and excitement and John reined himself back from stopping her when her knees collided with his leg. Or when she landed heavily on his lap. But he could not suppress the moan when her dressing gown covered core rubbed over his rising arousal.

Anna stopped, her mouth just a whisper of a breath from his, and let her eyes flick down for only a second before meeting his. John went to say something but a delicate finger slid between their lips to cover his and he could not contain the growling groan he managed at the leer in her expression. She twisted her hips to grind down on him, the material covering her skin added a host of electrifying sensations.

"Like that?" John could only nod, biting back his reaction when she did it again.

"I do believe I'm enjoying this." Anna ran her fingers over his exposed chest, tracing the paths and dips of his skin to tangle in the hair there. "Are you?"

"I'm sure you know I am."

"I guess I'll need more proof." Anna tipped her head to the side, kissing along the line of his jaw and letting her tongue sneak out to lick over his skin. "Does it always feel like this?"

"What?"

"This?" Anna scooted back, one hand still on his chest as the other tripped over his erection. "Soft and hard at the same time?"

"Yes."

She frowned, "How do you know?"

John blinked, forcing his mind to work past the overwhelming pleasure taking over his thoughts with each tentative stroke of her fingers over him. "What?"

"How do you know what you feel like?"

"I've…" John swallowed, the words he needed failing him as he looked at Anna. "You've never done it for yourself?"

"Ladies aren't supposed to."

John let a grin twitch at the corners of his mouth. "But you've felt yourself before, haven't you?"

"Once or twice but never-" She started to draw back but John stopped her with a hand over the one she left on his chest. "John?"

"Just watch." He used his free hand to cover the one she had frozen just an inch from his swelling erection. "Listen to what your body tells you."

With his arms guiding her, John put one of Anna's hands on him and the other between her legs when he nudged them slightly with his knee so she leaned over him. He started on himself, biting the tip of his tongue to keep the pace easy as he demonstrated how to stroke, squeeze, and rub until Anna's hand followed instinct without his guidance. As she worked herself forward a little, pressing kisses to his collarbone with each motion that left him bucking his hips into her hold, John moved her fingers through her folds.

"John?" The tremor in her voice betrayed her confusion and her pleasure.

"Listen." He urged, pausing until she nodded for him to continue.

Anna gasped, her motions stalling a moment, and her eyes fluttered shut. The traces of their earlier tryst in his studio still dampened her skin and John used it to slicken their slide until her body compensated and adapted to the growing sensations. Sensations she reciprocated in matching motions on his quivering arousal.

Their bodies shifted and squirmed toward one another as Anna drove herself and him toward the edge with inexperienced but eager hands. John took his hands to her, rewarded with each motion over her back or ass with little whimpers and keens. He grasped at her skin when her teeth bit down on his shoulder and he left a train of kisses over her shoulder and neck when she let out a soft cry as her fingers spread wider inside her.

"What now?" She panted near his ear, the puffs of breath from the tightening John could practically feel in her lungs through the trembling in her hands blew hot against his skin. "I'm close but I don't know-"

"Your body knows." John kissed her lips quickly, taking her tongue when she drove it into his mouth and used the hand not holding to her ass to skirt to where she fumbled to find the point of pleasure in herself. "It's here."

He pressed with his thumb, rubbing harder when she ground toward his fingers, and took her over the edge to leave her gasping in his arms. Her other hand left his arousal, the shift as her body moved toward him trapping the hot skin between them. Holding her tightly to him, waiting for the slowing in her breathing as she came down from her high, John turned them over.

Anna spread out on the bed, her hair fanning out around her like the crown of a goddess in ancient paintings and carvings. John stroked his fingers through it, his other hand still easing her down from her high as he helped extract her fingers from between her legs. Each one he took into his mouth drew another sound from Anna he wanted to record and listen to over and over again. But when John finished he drew both of her hands above her head and spread her legs so he could kneel between them.

She blinked lazily at him, one of her hands coming to run gentle furrows through his hair. John bent down, kissing her again as he eased forward to run his pulsating length along her weeping folds. The roll of her eyes back into her head put a smile on his face as he bent to kiss along her jaw.

"May I?" He waited, grinning all the more broadly when her whispered response reached his ears.

"Your body knows. Listen to what mine is telling you."

John thrust forward, slowing himself as much as he could to allow Anna the time to adjust. Her legs pressed back, her eyes scrunching shut, and John waited for her to shift her hips before he moved again. Drawing to the edge, he slid slowly back inside her to reach as deeply as he could. With one hand still holding one wrist above her head, John used the other to glide over her thigh and pull it up to his hip so he could drive deeper.

The hitch in her breathing slowed John so he made deep, sweeping drives inside her to reach as deeply as he could. Each motion rocked them together, Anna's fingers griping tighter and tighter as she dug for a better hold on his skin. And with each breath, they mingled closer until her legs wrapped around him and John could swear they could only be closer together if they shared one skin. He focused on her face, watching for the darkening of her eyes and the tightening of her muscles to signal she reached the end as he took his hand to where they joined and teased her sparking nerves.

Anna's cry almost sounded like his voice but the clench of her walls around him drove all other thoughts from his mind. He rutted into her, hand going back to hold her thigh as if he could better control his movements when primal instinct took over. Eventually he stuttered his finished, just barely holding himself above her with the hand still holding her wrist above her head.

The trembling quiver in his body forced him to ease back, rocking on his hip to pull them sideways so they could stay connected. Anna curled around him, her leg not releasing his hip while he let go of her wrist, and John hauled in deep breaths. Each exhale brought his heart beat from a racing thunder in his chest to a more manageable beat until he relaxed completely against her.

John shifted again, bringing Anna with him as much as he could, and lay on his back to stare up at the ceiling. Her fingers drew nonsensical patterns on his chest while her leg slipped between his to keep her notched at his side. His fingers worked through her hair to stroke and separate the individual strands until the motion was second-nature to him.

"Anna?" He breathed, shifting his head to try and see her face but the gentle rise and fall of her back under his palm betrayed her.

He snorted a little laugh, bending his neck to kiss the top of her head where she left it over his heart, and leaned back against the pillows to close his eyes.

* * *

Anna blinked, darkness still enshrouding them, and frowned. A smell filled her nostrils that she could not identify. It was not the smell of her home, the salty tang of rose as it mixed with her work, but something her body instinctively recognized as desirable. The smell drew her in until Anna almost let herself fall back asleep to its gentle lull.

But when the pillow under her head shifted, Anna shivered. Both as she recognized she lay on someone, and not something, and as she remembered where she was. And where she was not.

She turned, trying to extricate herself without waking him, but only managed to bite back a moan when something ran the line of her shoulders. Her sigh filled the room and offset the rumbling chuckle now vibrating along her back. "Leaving so soon?"

"A lady never outstays her welcome." Anna turned her head over her shoulder to see John blinking sleep from his eyes. "I should go. I don't know how late I am and I very much doubt my house is not in an uproar over the impropriety."

"It's barely two and you'll be fine." John assured her, kissing where her jaw met her neck to leave Anna sighing in his hold again. "And I promised I'd see you home."

"You're in no condition to do that." Anna put her hand on his arm, as if to move it away from her body, but shivered when he pressed himself against her so his arousal now rested at the small of her back and teased the crease of her ass. "As I was saying about being in no position to-"

"Are you in a position to leave on your own?"

"I manage the docks early in the morning on some occasions." Anna titled her head to the side so John's lips could run the line of her neck to her shoulder, whimpering as he left little bites along the skin she could cover with her dress. "They're not frightening in the dark."

"I meant," John returned to her ear, tugging the lobe between his teeth. "Are you ready to leave yet?"

"No." Anna whispered, her hand covering his where it teased first at her breasts and then skimmed lower to spread her legs enough to slip between her damp and dewing folds.

"Then let me love you again?" Anna tried to turn but he kept her in place. "There's more than one way to receive pleasure."

"You've already given me so much." She curled the fingers of her free hand into her palm, biting the skin with her nails as he slipped one of her fingers inside her opening and guided her wrist with his hand.

"It's infinite." Anna moved against her own hand, led by John's direction as to when she needed to add another finger or stroke her thumb along the nerves he teased earlier so she could find the pinnacle. "And now you can provide it for yourself when I'm not there."

"It won't be the same." She almost buried her response in the pillow but John stopped her, tilting her chin just enough so they could look at each other.

"No, it's not, but it will have to be until I return." His eyes searched hers, "This isn't goodbye forever Anna. I couldn't leave you after this."

"You won't?"

"Never." His lips met hers and Anna buried her finish in the caverns of his mouth before slipping her fingers free.

His hand took hold of her thigh, lifting it back over his hip to open her to him and thrust forward. Anna weaved her fingers in his hair, keeping his chin near her shoulder so the streams of his exhale blew hot over his skin and so they could kiss when they recovered enough breath. The position allowed him deeper, his fingers rubbing against at the exposed nerves that sparked and fizzed with each delicately educated stroke of his fingers.

The second finish rocked her as powerfully as the first and Anna clung to him for support through his end. His body curled around hers, sending tiny shocks through them both until he finally stilled and slipped from her. Even then they stayed wrapped together in the silence and settling realization of their exertions.

Without a word, as if their activities of the evening allowed them to understand one another with more than their hearts, John led Anna to the water pitcher. There he soaked a flannel to run over her body until the layer of sweat and evidence of their multiple joinings vanished. Anna wondered to herself, drying as he washed himself, how she could ever forget the exact places where he touched her.

They redressed themselves, John aiding her with pins and details until her hair resembled what it had when she entered his house earlier in the evening. Not exactly the same, and Anna knew Mrs. Hughes would know in a moment, but enough for her to satisfy herself. Had she allowed John to touch her again she would be helpless and fall back into his arms. Even with all the clothes between them, Anna wanted nothing more than to sate the hunger now clawing back inside her. The matching glint in his eyes told her it would take many more samplings to manage those desires.

A sneaking suspicion told her it never would.

Still staying silent, they walked down to the entrance where John helped Anna into her coat and managed his own. They descended the stairs and summoned one of the late cabs taking others, like themselves, risking peeking eyes in the early morning to return to their homes. But the cab driver said nothing and only promised to remain as John escorted Anna to her front door.

He took her hand, speaking for the first time in what felt like a moment and an eternity at the same time, as his lips kissed over her. "I had a lovely evening Ms. Smith."

"I wish my adjectives could encompass what I thought of the evening." Anna did not remove her hand, staying still as John looked into her eyes. "I wish you didn't have to return to Vienna."

"You're welcome to join me."

"That wouldn't be wise."

John twerked the edge of his mouth into a smile. "Afraid of what someone might say?"

"I'm afraid that your investment, new as of this evening, would be swiftly mismanaged if I were whisked away to Vienna." Anna finally took her hand back, bending from her position on the step above him to kiss his cheek. "As much as I'd love to do nothing but drag you by your tie up to my room and forever mark that space with you, we've other obligations."

"So we do." John tipped up to catch her retreating lips with his, dragging his tongue along her lower one before making a retreat of his own. "One kiss to take with me."

"There'll be more, when you return." Anna finally stepped back, her hand on the handle of her door. "Let that keep you peaceful at night."

"I'll have the memories of this evening to do that for me." John nodded at her, "Again, I had a most pleasurable evening Ms. Smith."

"As did I, Mr. Bates." Anna opened her door and went to walk inside when John murmured something. "What?"

"I just said that there's more pleasure to be had later." John winked at her, turning on his heel to the cab and getting in to drive away before he could say anything else.

Anna allowed a smile to take over her face and walked over the threshold of her home. She put her hand to the door, pushing it closed, when she paused. Her eyes narrowed and she walked onto the stoop again, surveying the far end of the street. Nothing moved and Anna shook her head, blinking away the twinge at the back of her mind reminding her of a need for sleep.

When the door shut Anna walked toward her rooms, forgetting entirely the prickle at the back of her neck that seemed to signal someone was watching her. And while she readied herself for bed a man fumed in the shadows of the far staircase, fingers clenching and shaking as he tried to control his breathing. As Anna's breathing eased in her exhausted sleep, Alex Green schemed and planned from his place in the shadows.


	7. Be More Like a Man

Anna rubbed the bridge of her nose, pinching it to try and drive the pounding in her head berating her lack of sleep away from conscious thought, and then blinked to refocus her eyes on the columns of figures before her. Someone knocked at the door and Anna ignored it, frowning as the numbers continued to swirl and dance on the paper. The knocking persisted she set her pen to the side and called toward the door.

"Come in." Her eyes widened as the man from dinner, Henry Talbot, entered the room. "Mr. Talbot, I wasn't expecting Mr. Bates's lawyer this soon after we signed the contract. Is something wrong with the acquisition?"

"It's nothing of the kind as it all went through just perfectly." He shrugged, "Your solicitor, Mr. Crawley, is a rather intelligent man and I've no problems from my end where it's concerned."

"So only smooth sailing?"

"I don't like to count my chickens but I don't believe I'd be speaking out of turn if I said I'm wildly optimistic."

"And yet your face says otherwise." Anna narrowed her eyes at the twitch in Talbot's lip. "What exactly brings you here today, Mr. Talbot?"

"Information I think your Mr. Crawley might be a bit too… honorable, to share with you."

Anna raised an eyebrow, opening her hand to the seat across from her desk so Talbot would sit. "And what is it that you're willing to share with me? We barely know one another."

"Which is why I'm the most qualified to share it."

"Because you're not mindful of my feelings or worried about how it might affection our relationship?"

"Exactly. We have none, Ms. Smith."

"Then you're here on behalf of our recently departed Mr. Bates." Anna noted the slight shuffle to Talbot's movements. "Then you should be out with it."

"There's a rumor circling the neighborhoods that you're… no longer in possession of your virtue." Anna tightened her jaw but did not drop his gaze. "I can imagine that's not something you'd want becoming the gossip of the town."

"I'm not one for town in that way."

"But that kind of gossip could, no unkind pun intended, sink your company." Talbot clacked his teeth together, "And lose you future contracts after you've lose all your current contracts."

"Because I'm a woman?"

"Because you're a woman in a society that values female virture about that of men." Talbot raised his hands, "I don't agree with the rules but I live by them the same way you do."

"And that's why you're here." Anna nodded, "Losing any of those contracts will affect the stake he now has in my company and therefore the contract we so recently filed."

"That's true but not the entire truth."

"There's more?"

"These kinds of rumors would also adversely affect those about whom Mr. Bates cares." Talbot crossed one leg over the other. "I'm sure you must think I'm a man for money, Ms. Smith, and there's truth to that but I'm also fiercely loyal."

"I can tell."

"Then I'm sure I don't have to explain to you that my loyalty means I protect those things Mr. Bates cares about more than his money." Talbot nodded at Anna, "I'm also very sure you're aware you mean a great deal to him."

"I'd thought the rumor proved that true."

"To me, yes. To others…" Talbot shrugged, "It presents a threat to your business in more ways than your reputation."

"It's mine to ruin."

"And your personal life's your business, as far as I'm concerned. My interest in all this is that those with whom you'd rather never do business might believe you'd spread your legs to get it."

"And those with whom I already do business might believe the same?"

"The long and the short of it."

"Neither speculation is aided by the fact that the contract that secured me Mr. Bates investment was made the same night as our supposed dalliance?"

"Exactly that."

Anna sat back in her chair, putting her fingertips together before meeting Talbot's eyes. "And your suggestion is? I assume you have one, of course."

"Of course." Talbot cleared his throat, "I suggest you dispel the rumors by being seen with someone else. Someone who could protect your reputation with credibility instead of being seen as a deception."

"Who?"

"Me." He grinned, "Mr. Bates would never suspect anything but my protection of his interests and I promise nothing but the most gentlemanly of entanglements between us."

"And what would the public think?"

"That you and I had a fascinating evening talking until the small hours. Mr. Bates, as the host, escorted you home after much cajoling, and we've been inseparable ever since."

"Then I'll also assume you've taken preemptive action on this and arranged for your journey here to be photographed for the more curious neighbors and spread abroad as gossip for any and all who might take interest in who is between my legs?"

"I may've made an executive decision."

"Then tell me," Anna leaned over the desk, "What does Mr. Crawley have to say about the fact the two of you left early together? There was a pub, I believe, and anyone there could be pressed to remember you there instead of conversing with me until the small hours."

"I doubt it given the general level of soused when we arrived. Furthermore, we didn't stay together very long as Mr. Crawley had an early engagement." Talbot shrugged, "If it helps, Mr. Crawley agreed with my assessment of the situation."

"You told Matthew first?"

"I told Mr. Crawley my plan, I did not tell him why I believed it necessary."

"I'm sure Matthew's already come to his own conclusions as to why it'd be necessary." Anna ran a hand over her face, "I'll never be able to look that man in the eye again."

"I'm sure he understands better than you give him credit for." Talbot adjusted his tie, tucking it into his jacket as he stood. "I do hope you're in agreement as far as this plan is concerned."

"It seems I've no other choice."

"You do." Talbot nodded, his whole body bending when he cringed. "You just wouldn't like the outcomes with that other choice."

"When does Mr. Bates plan to return from Vienna?"

"That, unfortunately, is at the whim of his father. His extended stay here was supposed to be in the interests of earning more of the favors of the Princess of Bavaria but I'm sure John won't find telling his father the real reason for his delay very pleasurable."

Anna frowned, "He invited me to accompany him. Why would he do that if he thought it would go poorly?"

"Perhaps as a balm against his father?" Talbot shrugged, "Mr. Rothschild is not a man easily understood so I try not to break my brain in the attempt."

"Did his father call him home?"

"No, his business interests there did. I think this growing frustration with Serbia and the Empire might be threatening some of those concerns. And since money troubles always raise red flags for Mr. Rothschild…" Talbot shuddered, "Whatever John has to say about the marriage he did not secure here, it'll be nothing to what he'll have to resolve with his father about their finances should treaties be called into play."

"Are you a war strategist Mr. Talbot?"

"No, just a man who only makes money when others make money."

"As I mentioned last night, it's in the interest of your boss, and yourself, to align with me as long as I might be called upon to help make warships, should it come to that."

"Then," Talbot waited for Anna to step around her desk, taking her hand swiftly and smoothly to tuck it in the crook of his elbow. "Let us make sure there's still business to be had, shall we?"

"What will it entail?"

"For the moment? You walk with me to the tea shop just opposite your building and we laugh about something ridiculous over scones and you rush back to work." Talbot winked at her, "I promise, you won't regret the company."

"And you've informed Mr. Bates of this plan, I'll assume."

"He's my employer and this is his investment. Naturally I told him how I intend to protect it."

"Then it would appear I'd be a fool to refuse." Anna reached for her coat but Talbot beat her to it. "Keep up with that and I won't have to pretend to like you Mr. Talbot."

"That either says very little of me or very little of all the men who've pursued you in the past."

"The latter, I assure you." Anna put her arms through the sleeves. "Lead on."

"My pleasure." Talbot guided her out of the office and toward the teashop. "I should warn you, before we begin."

"About?"

"I'm allergic to lemon so we'll never have Earl Grey."

"Shame, and I was just beginning to like you."

Talbot laughed and Anna thought she heard the click of a camera to accompany the flash out of the corner of her eye.

* * *

John stood still as Andrew fixed his collar and adjusted the tie. "I believe you're all ready milord."

"Thank you Andrew." John turned to the mirror, pulling ever so slightly on his tie. "Andrew, do you miss London?"

"I miss the chance to see my family more frequently but we travel enough milord." Andrew gathered the trapping of John's earlier suit and worked to brush it off before hanging it. "Should I pack for a return trip milord?"

"What do you hear about the fiasco with the Black Hand from Serbia?"

"I read about it on the train milord and it doesn't appear that Serbia'll take the blame for the action to the Empire's liking." Andrew shrugged, "The Emperor's quite adamant but I think he'll be just disappointed enough to do something rash."

"You understand quite a bit about politics."

"I read an awful lot milord." Andrew hid a grin, "We spend quite a bit of time on trains."

"That we do." John ground his teeth a moment. "Could we move our operations to London and function just as well?"

"That's a question for someone who manages your finances, milord."

"Andrew, while I'm at dinner, I need you to send a telegram to Mr. Talbot. He's staying at my house in London and I need him to tell me if it'd make financial sense to move our offices to London."

"And us along with them milord?"

"Make it easier on two of u wouldn't it?" John started at the sound of the gong. "There I go. And bring me the answer to the telegram as soon as you have it Andrew, no matter what."

"I will milord."

John managed the stairs to the main hall without complaint and into the reception's sitting room. His eyes landed on his father, swirling a drink in his glass as he leaned on the mantle, and John made for him. But a hand landed on his arm and John started when Vera's voice entered his ear.

"It's so good you're finally down John. I worried you wouldn't be here in time."

"I don't-"

"Her Royal Highness, the Princess of Bavaria, is here to accept your proposal, John." The echo of Mr. Rothschild's glass landing on the mantle sent a shudder through John and their eyes met. "I do hope this is a surprise you were hoping to tell me about before tonight."

"I-"

"Don't be embarrassed John." Vera slapped at his arm, harder than her playful giggle let on and John bit down his wince at the spark in Vera's eyes. "I'm sure your father's over the moon about it."

"I need to speak to him in private." John went to extricate himself from Vera's grip but her nails dug in like talons. "I'm sure you understand the definition of 'private' conversation Vera."

"I understood that you stood me up at my own birthday party last week with some nobody from a middle-class British family and I won't be shamed like that again." Vera hissed and the glint in her eyes changed almost dangerously gleeful. "I'm sure she wouldn't like what I could do to her if I don't get my way."

"Father," John held Vera's gaze, "If I could speak to you in private, briefly, I could explain all of this."

"Please do." His father bowed at the neck to Vera before scowling at John and leading them into the small corridor off the sitting room. The moment the door closed his face almost purpled with the effort of keeping his voice low but his emotions obvious. "Do you have any idea what you've done?"

"I'm sure she's told you some things-"

"She told me that you danced with a daughter of a shipping magnate in London and only gave her the first dance."

"I was only obligated to open the ball with her."

"I sent you to London to get her hand in marriage. You know how important she is to us."

"Not with how the markets aren't favoring her uncle." John pointed back toward the door. "If I agree to the sham she's proposing we'll be ruined. You'll be ruined if you endeavor to support her."

"I don't need financial advice from you. I managed this family long before you came along."

"But I've grown it." John took a breath, "I came down here to tell you that I want to move my offices to London."

"To be closer to your trollop?" His father snorted when John's teeth clacked together. "Just like your mother, so easily gotten."

"Don't speak about my mother like that."

"Then don't throw away your future like she did." Mr. Rothschild threw up his hands, gesturing to the grand house about them. "You think I could've built this on the backs of bastard children."

"You claimed me."

"You were smart. The rest of them were lazy, ridiculous curs."

"Much like the other children of yours that I keep cleaning up after."

"They're my blood."

"So am I." John seethed back, nose-to-nose with his balding father. "With Serbia refusing the Emperor's demands it's only a matter of time before we're going to have to decide where we're banking for this Empire. That place needs to be England, specifically London."

"Because of her?"

"If she's involved then that's my business." John straightened, "You and I both know that the Princess of Bavaria could never marry a bastard… even one who's the bastard child of the Rothschild. Even if he's a baron. I'm nothing and no one to them and they'll not take that risk. Not when the Emperor'll tug their door knocker in no time at all."

"You're trying to justify a public mistake."

"Like you have since I was young?" John let it rest a moment. "I'm not yours to control. I don't depend on your money the way your other children do. I don't need your good will or your graces. I need only what I've already got and if that means that I'll no longer be welcome in your house then that is how it must be."

"You'd leave everything for that tart?"

"I'd leave much more for that woman." John pointed toward the receiving room. "I will not marry Vera and that's final."

Mr. Rothschild's mustache twitched and he huffed. "You always were pigheaded and strong willed."

"Perhaps you made a mistake when you took my mother to your bed."

"Perhaps I did." He narrowed his eyes at John, "Too much Irish in you."

"I'll take that compliment where I can get it."

"You realize, don't you, that if you move to London you'll have to make yourself known to the banking arm of ours that runs there?"

"I won't step on any toes since I'm getting out of banking."

"Right," Mr. Rothschild scoffed, "Your investments."

"I wouldn't be so quick to scoff when it's made you a few small fortunes." John rolled his shoulders, pulling at his lapels. "Trust that I've got my life under far better control than your children do."

"Imagine the irony that my bastard child is the only one who truly turned out to be anything like me."

"I'm nothing like you." John opened the door to the receiving room and entered, taking a drink from a tray.

Before he could finish it, Vera came before him. John almost spit the contents of his glass from his mouth and barely controlled himself from choking on the liquid. The burn in his throat and mouth stopped him speaking as Vera put her hands over his.

"I'm sure your father's spoken sense to you."

"And I'm sure," John coughed, accepting the water the footman brought him with a grateful nod, "You haven't spoken to yours."

"Are you bothered by the idea that my father might disapprove of your upbringing?" Vera shook her head, sipping at her glass. "You're a baron, a Rothschild, and a smart man. Those are all that matter to my father and my uncle."

"Then it's rather unfortunate that your uncle, Prince Wilhelm, will cock it all up with our Emperor." John finished the water and his glass. "I'm not marrying your, Vera, because we both know it's not the best decision for either of us."

"You believe you can refuse me when I've come all this way to-"

"To be disappointed, yes I very well do." John sighed as the door opened to reveal the butler. "I hope you enjoy dinner. It's roast duck and my father's gone to great lengths to tenderize it."

They filed into the dining room, John taking his seat and enduring the harsh glares of Vera to match his father's scowl. A few of the other diners, two of them his half-siblings, steered the conversation around the three turbulent of their number until everyone was stuffed to the point of breaking. The men went through with the women, all deciding games of cards far preferable to silence and cigars.

John excused himself before the party even reached the sitting room, and made for the stairs. A tap on his shoulder had John pivoting as if to defend himself but his shoulders dropped when he saw Andrew there. "Sorry, Andrew, you weren't what I was expecting."

"I received Mr. Talbot's reply." He held out the folded paper. "Should I prepare your pajamas milord?"

"Yes. And, if it's not too late, could you also telephone Mr. Gunther?"

"Milord?"

"I may need to consider battening down all the hatches." John rolled his eyes, "And arrange my meetings for as few days as possible. I'd hate to outstay my welcome."

"That bad already milord?"

"Worse." John nodded toward the stairs, "But only if you can. If not then we'll handle it in the morning from the office."

"I'll see what I can do milord."

John opened the telegram, reading quickly. As he finished, tucking the telegram into his pocket, he called out. "And Andrew, I-"

"He's already gone up."

John almost jumped at the sight of Vera standing in the half-shadows of the foyer. "What are you doing here?"

"Seeking our my fiancé."

"And how many ways do I need to tell you that you're using a title I'll never have in relation to you?" John nodded at her, "Goodnight, Princess Vera, and may you have a safe journey home."

"I think you forget that my uncle is a man who could make your life very difficult."

"Your uncle's a man who holds gloves in his arm to make it look longer." John shook his head, "I don't know why I'm having this conversation with you. It's going nowhere and I need to be somewhere else."

As he put his foot on the bottom step, Vera spoke again. "Rushing back to your little missus?"

"Even if I were, it'd be none of your concern."

"What if I made it my concern?"

"Then I'd tell you that I've invested quite a bit of money in an operation that might, if my Emperor and your uncle decide to be the fools hunting for glories of the past, make me a good deal of money. If not, and that's with the assumption that a group of squabbling men that bicker like the related children they are can find a reasonable solution to something, then I'm still going to grow a small fortune in shipping." John shrugged, "Whatever you want to say about the shipping company Ms. Smith runs, or about Ms. Smith herself, you're forgetting that I'm an investor first and a man second."

"You're going to play coy about your attraction to her?"

"I'm going to be honest and say that I signed a contract with Ms. Smith."

"Do you often need a bed to sign a contract?"

John's brow furrowed. "I used a table but it could've been a desk."

"Then you'll not be too upset by this news?" Vera snatched a paper from the table nearest her and showed the headline to John, the photograph in black-and-white. "She's interested in your lawyer friend, Mr. Talbot."

"He's quite the character, I'm sure there are plenty of women interested in him."

"But that it's your Ms. Smith?"

"She'd have to be mine for that to mean something to me." John sighed, "Really, I've got early meetings that I can't miss and plans that must take place. If you're finished here-"

"I don't think you understand me, John." Vera tossed the paper aside, coming toward the stairs to stand nose-to-nose with John. "I won't be thrown over for some small-town girl with a business enterprise."

"You can't be thrown over since I've never made any arrangements with you." John straightened, pulling his jacket. "We were never going to happen, Vera. Surely you see that."

"I see a bastard Rothschild parading around as if he deserves to wear the clothes on his back." Vera sneered at him, "You were never my first choice."

"Then be grateful I no longer have to be your choice at all." John bowed at the neck to her. "Goodnight Princess."

John did not look back as he ascended the stairway and left Vera in the half-darkness of the foyer below.


	8. The Red Queen

John shook his head, shuffling the papers about. "These numbers aren't promising."

"It's the reactions of everyone to the rumors of war." The old man across the desk from him spoke with a significant Austrian accent. "I believe you made a good move in London with that shipping investment."

"Can't I trade out the rest of these worthless ones for land and hospitals?" John shrugged, "We could be making the bullets and the bandages for the upcoming war and profit."

"And if there is no war?"

"People still need bullets and bandages."

"I believe the best thing for you to do would be trade your falling stock and investments to direct gold. That will never lose value."

John raised an eyebrow at the man with a closely trimmed beard and matching goatee. "You think I should bury it all with my head in the sand?"

"Did I say that?"

"Sounded like you did."

"What I suggested, Baron, was that you should take your investments and turn them into quantifiable currency. The paper money floating about will lose its value in war. We need something that holds value regardless of which army owns the banks and metals, in my experience, only shift in value depending on how we get them and from where."

"My father owns the banks so the money's safe."

"But for how long?"

John nodded, shrugging. "What if we split it both ways? Invest now in bandages, bullets, and boats while turning the other half into gold we sit on until this conflict dies down?"

"War profiteering never appealed to you before."

"I didn't stand to make money and continue providing jobs before." John opened his hands, "I'm in a place now where I can kill two birds with one stone."

"And you see that as morally just?"

"I don't see trying to make a living and provide one for others during a time of crisis a crime."

"Even if it's because many of their family members'll be buried in the ground with your bullets in their bellies and your bandages on their bodies?"

"They'll need to pay for the funeral."

Mr. Gunther snorted, "You're a man with selective morality, Mr. Bates."

"You taught me we all choose our moralities." John wagged a finger, "Don't try and fool me Mr. Gunther, I know this game."

"A little too well now I think." He sighed, "I think I can take these and turn them into something. Hospitals, bandages, bombs, and bullets… with a little gold on the side to bury with a treasure map."

"Not sure I could make a successful map when this war'll tear through everything and leave nothing the same." John sniffed, "Tell me, what'll you do if war breaks out?"

"I'll stay here and continue the work I do." Mr. Gunther drew a piece of paper toward him and took his pen to immediately begin writing in a quick script. "Your father hasn't released me from his employ and I'll be happy continuing to make him, and you, money."

"You say that almost like he still gives me money."

"Do not forget," Mr. Gunther leveled the pen at John, "I grew your first interests from the money he gifted you. Both that money and my talents were his to offer to you. As intelligent as you are, do you really think you could've built the empire you have without his help?"

"I'm not disdaining the aid I received, which I admit was more than generous." John shifted in his chair, "I simply disdain that he's of the assumption that I still owe him for something I repaid, with interest, years ago."

"We always owe a debt to our parents."

"The debt I owe my parents goes solely to my mother, Mr. Gunther, not my father."

"He gave you his name, a peerage, and an inheritance." Mr. Gunther finished writing and blew on the page. "Don't think that because he's not giving you the same as your siblings or because he's been harsh with you that means you don't owe him anything at all."

"Even if he only took me because my dying mother forced him?"

"I've never known Mr. Rothschild to go anything he did not want." Mr. Gunther passed the paper to John. "If that meets your approval, I'd like you to sign it please. Then I can begin to grow this section of your garden."

John read the paper over quickly and signed with a flourish. "And just like that, I've severed myself from my father's financial interests."

"I'd try not to crow about it." Mr. Gunther shook his head, "People tend not to like someone proud of finally escaping their father's grasp at the age of-"

"No need to play below the belt." John stood and extended his hand to the man. "It's always a pleasure doing business with you."

"The same for me." Mr. Gunther managed a smile as he shook John's hand. "It's refreshing to deal with someone who thinks of the world as their oyster instead of just the plot of earth on which they physically stand."

"I try to expand my enterprises to include all the places that I hope to one day go." John pulled out his pocket watch, "Speaking of, I've got a train to catch this evening and I'd hate to miss it."

"So would the London bank that'll be taking your business from here to there." Mr. Gunther gruffed, "Not that I've felt I did anything but well-manage your funds for all the years you've banked with us."

"And you have The moment the financial world of the Hapsburg Empire is again secure then I return here."

"How'll you get along with your family's banking branch in London if you tell them you're not banking with them?"

"Considering I'm the illegitimate son of my father's house, I'm not sure they're all that fussed about me not making a point of ingratiating myself."

"The usurper, as it were?"

"I've been called worse."

"Haven't we all?" Mr. Gunther sighed, "My sincerest best wishes to you in London, Mr. Bates. I'm sure you'll do well there."

"I intend to."

* * *

Anna patted Talbot's arm. "You truly are one of the best people to take to a play. Has anyone ever told you?"

"Not often but I'll take the compliment." He took her hand and kissed her fingers. "I'm sure it's no surprise to you that I've attended more than a few functions with young ladies on my arm."

"Were these your paramours?"

"Not all, no." Talbot let the hint of a smile play on his lips. "Although I'm no more ignorant than yourself in what one does with the opposite sex when they're feeling the heat rise."

"It's more than being in heat."

"Don't I know it." Talbot paused, "But I must warn you away from falling into romantic love with me. I'm not the kind of man for you Ms. Smith and I believe-"

She swatted at his arm. "You're incorrigible, as I'm sure you know, and I won't take gaff like that from you. No matter how charming."

"Good." He raised his hand and caught the passing cab. "I received a telegram this morning, from Mr. Bates."

"And you're waiting until now to tell me?" Anna took his hand, entering the cab and waiting for him to give the driver the address. "I would've thought you'd tell me straightaway."

"I wanted to see the show and I knew that if you had anything to say about it all I'd hear for the rest of the evening would be about how much you miss Mr. Bates." Talbot shuffled in his seat. "I wanted to enjoy the theater."

"Since the play is over, could we discuss the contents of your telegram?"

"Of course." Talbot dug into the inside pocket of his jacket and handed it over. "I thought you'd want to know the news."

Anna read the short message quickly. "Do you two always write in code?"

"It's easier when your last name's connected to that of 'Rothschild' and you wish to remain a bit more aloof." Talbot snorted, "We've had a few people, in the past try to steal our communication so they could get one over on Mr. Bates."

"I suspect that didn't work out the way they were expecting."

Talbot shook his head, taking back the telegram. "Need a translation?"

"I got the gist of it." Anna let her lips curl up into a smile. "He's taking me to dinner tonight?"

"There's a very fancy hotel that he's just purchased and he's been dying to try the food there."

"And this has nothing to do with showing me off or him showing off his new purchase to me?"

"I can promise you one thing, Ms. Smith, without reservation." Talbot opened the door as the cab stopped outside her house. "Mr. Bates is anything but ostentatious in his displays of affection. If he feels something, it's personal and private. I rarely even get a peek."

"The how fortunate you must feel now." Anna took his hand and descended the cab. "And what time am I expected?"

"His driver here in London'll be round at seven." Talbot pulled the door closed. "I expect it'll be fancier dress but, then again, I don't often get invited to these sorts of events."

Anna waved him off and ascended the stairs to her house. The footman opened the door for her and she handed over her hat and coat as Mrs. Hughes came toward her whilst wringing her hands. Without a second thought, Anna followed her to an alcove in the main corridor.

"What is it Mrs. Hughes?"

"There's a princess here, Anna. A princess and Mr. Green."

Anna groaned, "And what does that man want?"

Mrs. Hughes blinked at her, "I've just told you a princess is in your study and he's the one who gets your attention?"

"You didn't say she was in the study and I've a good idea who the princess is and why she's here." Anna rolled her shoulders, nodding toward her destination. "And I'll deal with her presently. What I want to know is how that man got into my house for a second time after I was clear about his no longer being welcome after the first time."

"He bribed one of the hallboys." Mrs. Hughes sighed, "Which is a shame because Mr. Carson thought that one had real potential. He's been given his notice."

"Normally I'd suggest that was a bit harsh but, for now, I heartily agree with the action taken." Anna pointed toward the room just behind her. "I'll assume you kept him near the door?"

"Mr. Carson's herding him in there. Afraid he'll damage the furniture if left alone and ready to toss him out by the scruff if you refuse to see him."

"I'll see to him but Mr. Carson will be present." Anna tipped for a glance at the hall clock. "And I've dinner at a fancy hotel this evening."

"I'll have Gwen ready your nice evening gown, the one you wore to that dinner with Mary Crawley."

"Excellent. And warn Gwen she can't get too extravagant with my hair. I've no idea how long I'll have and I won't be late."

"Very good Anna." Mrs. Hughes pointed to the library, "The lesser of two evils then?"

"This is the only case where I think 'the devil you know' isn't the one you want to meet first." Anna snorted, "Maybe he'll seem a cake walk by comparison."

"If he's going to be that, I shiver to think what kind of princess waits behind those doors."

Anna stiffened her shoulders and walked the length of the hall to reach the library. Taking a breath, she pushed through the doors to nod at the woman scowling out the window. "I do apologize, I've only just arrived home."

"I'm sure the few minutes of conferring you did with your housekeeper was enough to tell you she thinks of me." The Princess of Bavaria only tilted her head enough to look at Anna from her spot in front of the window. "Warned you against me, did she?"

"She doesn't know you."

"I'm sure she's read a paper or two." The Princess finally turned on her heel, standing to face Anna as if they might draw guns and fire on one another. "I'm not often out of them."

"And my congratulations to you on your engagement to that baron… I'm sorry I forget his name. Then again, I don't speak Russian."

"But you do, Ms. Smith." Anna closed her mouth, tightening her jaw slightly as the Princess circled the room, drawing a finger down the back threading of the sofa. "You also speak German, French, and just enough Italian to seem fluent."

"You speak more languages than I do, Your Royal Highness, so I do hope you're not about to make this a contest. I'm sure I'd lose rather badly."

The Princess snorted, stopping with her fingers digging into the threading. "You think I'm here to compare our talents?"

"I honestly don't know why you're here." Anna opened her hands before clasping them together at her waist. "As far as I know we're not even acquainted."

"And as far as I know you're nothing but the daughter of a shipping magnate who's not been educated in courtesy or decorum."

"If you're referring to tea I'm afraid you've caught me between engagements and I've not the time to offer anything to you." Anna narrowed her eyes, "But I've got the distinct impression this has nothing to do with my manners… at least not as far as guest courtesy."

"You're right." She left the sofa, stalking toward Anna in such a way that Anna had to tramp down on all of her instincts to run and stand perfectly still. "I'm here because you took something from me and I want it back."

"I don't know what you mean."

"You know exactly what I mean." The Princess narrowed her eyes. "I'm sure you enjoyed the night you had with John but he's not the right man for someone like you. You're not right for him either."

"And if there was a time he was right for you, I don't think now is it." Anna risked, noting the twitch in the Princess's jaw muscles and the flicker of one moving in her cheek. "You're already engaged to someone else, Your Royal Highness, and he's not got the taint of illegitimacy to his name."

"You think I cared about that?"

"I think an awful lot more people cared about it, no matter that his father's name was Rothschild." Anna took a breath, "More to the point, I didn't take anything. If he wanted you then I doubt he would've glanced twice in my direction."

"Think you're better than me, do you?"

"I honestly don't think of you at all." Anna nodded at her, "If that's the extent of this conversation, I think it'd be wise if you left. I've nothing more to say and whatever grudge you're holding against me is none of my business. Take up your grievances, whatever they are, with Mr. Bates."

"I have."

Anna bit her lip a moment, "Then I think you already know your answer."

The Princess practically seethed at Anna. "I've got the uncomfortable feeling you're about to assume yourself better than me."

"I don't think of myself as any better or worse than anyone, Your Royal Highness, and I won't lose any sleep over this."

"I could make you lose sleep."

Anna held her gaze, "And what would your uncle say to that when he's already balanced on the edge of a war I don't think he'll win?"

The Princess's face contorted into a vicious scowl. "He'd understand being looked down on by the pomposity of the British."

"I don't look down on you, Your Royal Highness." Anna looked her over. "I pity you. Pity because you're marrying a man to seal some kind of alliance I'm sure you don't want and pity because the man you thought you wanted doesn't want you. I know a bit of what that feels like."

"Do you?"

"You're not the only one who's been rejected before." Anna walked to the door of the library and opened it. "I do hope the remainder of your evening is far more pleasant than this bit of it was."

The Princess huffed and marched to the door. Her hand landed on it, holding it as if she hoped to bash Anna against the wall with the heavy wood. But instead she just scoffed in her last inspection of the shorter woman. "And what'll he say when he discovers you've been untrue to him? And with his friend, no less?"

"That he knows more about all this than you do." Anna pointed down the corridor. "Good evening, Your Royal Highness."

With a final huff, the Princess left.

Anna heaved her own sigh of relief before stealing herself for the next door. When the snap of the front allowed her to leave the library, unobserved by the recently departed Princess, Anna entered the study. A motion that had both men inside stiffening. Mr. Carson to his respectful stance and Green as if from a knee-jerk reaction to her presence. The smile on his face, however, gave her nothing but a sick feeling in her stomach.

"I'd apologize for keeping you waiting but I thought I was clear in our last conversation that you were neither welcome in this house nor as a seeker of my affections."

"And I thought you should reconsider." His eyes flicked toward Mr. Carson. "Not sure you want your father around for this kind of conversation."

"You know he's not my father and Mr. Carson's here to ensure I don't use one of the books on those shelves to drive you from my house." Anna pointed to the door. "Your exit, sir, is there. I suggest you use it."

"Not after what I've got to say to you." Green clasped his hands behind his back. "I'm not sure how familiar you are with the house across the street from your own but there's a little inset for the ground-floor flat there."

"What of it?"

"I was there, taking a drag, when I happened to notice the lateness… Or should I say, _earliness_ of the hour when you returned here with Mr. Bates two weeks ago." Green shrugged, "I'm sure others believe the story that Mr. Bates, being a gentleman, escorted you home after a late evening at his home but I know the truth behind that lie."

"And what truth could that be?" Anna bit the inside of her cheek to try and keep her face unchanged. "That I spent the evening conversing, in detail, with an investor in my company and his friend before he escorted me home?"

"Mr. Talbot, your new 'beau for show' was at a pub with Matthew Crawley until the early hours." Green could barely contain the glee in his voice. "I've got two sources that could confirm that."

"Where they drunk or asleep when they 'saw' Mr. Talbot there with Mr. Crawley?" Anna folded her arms over her chest. "Even so, if that part of my story's a lie, then I guess I'll have to be honest and tell everyone that Mr. Talbot and I started our courtship the next day."

"But I've also got a maid, formerly of the London residence of Mr. Bates, who claims you were whisked through his house in a dressing gown." Green clicked his tongue against his teeth and Anna tried not to turn when she heard the strangled sound in Mr. Carson's throat. "What good, honest, young, church-going lady, such as yourself, would allow a man to whom she's not married escort her through his house in a dressing gown long after the end of dinner?"

"One who was grateful he did not mind that this lady was a bit unglamorous in the handling of her wine." Anna shrugged, "I spilled some over my dress and I needed it to soak."

"It wasn't wet when you arrived home."

"If there's a point, or an accusation, that you're trying to make here Mr. Green I'd rather you just say it. I'm not digging for answers or provided you with any." Anna stopped, "In fact, I don't owe you anything at all. These questions are ridiculous and my answers, a courtesy in and of themselves, are none of your business."

"I made them my business."

"For what purpose, Mr. Green?" Anna waited, "To blackmail me? To threaten me? To convince me to do something for you?"

Green nodded, "Now you understand."

"Then I'll be pleased to tell you that Mr. Carson will stand as my witness should you trouble me further about any of this." Green blanched slightly and Anna nodded. "Like I said at the beginning, he's here for protection."

"I don't need to formally arrange anything to use what I know to ruin you." Green hissed but Anna held firm.

"Ruin me how? By telling people that I might not be chaste? By suggesting anything lewd about my business practices or my personal affairs?"

"Affairs is a good word for it."

"So was the word 'personal'." Anna shook her head. "You're a unique man, Mr. Green, and I don't mean that in any kind or generous way. I mean it to say that I've never met anyone that made my skin crawl more than you do."

"There's a risk in being honest."

"You're a greedy, self-serving, conniving little weasel and I've no time to listen to you any longer." Anna turned on her heel. "Mr. Carson, please see Mr. Green to the door. If he refuses, throw him out so he can bounce down the steps. And warn the rest of my staff that should anyone even think of allowing him back into my house, they'll regret that decision."

"Of course Ms. Smith."

Anna went to go but Green grabbed her arm. "Now listen you bit-"

Her hand went to his wrist and twisted to bring him to his knees. "No."

"But I-"

She twisted farther and he cried out but held her gaze. "I'll not hear another word from you. You'll never attempt to touch me again."

"Yes but-"

"No buts. No anything. We'll never speak, you'll stop trying to see me, and if I even get a whiff of you anywhere near me I'll ruin you. Do you understand me?" He nodded and Anna released him. "Now, get out of my bloody house."

He hurried to his feet, still holding his wrist, and skittered from the door with Mr. Carson on his heels. Anna let out a breath, grabbing for the back of a chair to stop her hands shaking. And when the beat of her blood settled back to a regular rhythm, she gathered herself and went upstairs.

The moment the door opened, Gwen grabbed her with a frustrated sigh. "And what sort of time do you call this?"


	9. Just a Little Luck

John pulled at his cuffs and then froze when she entered the hotel. Her fingers tugged at her gloves but her smile lit up her face and the corridor around them the moment her eyes landed on him. There was nothing he could do but hope the swelling in his heart did not burst his chest open.

"I do hope you don't mind that I used the same dress I wore to our first dinner." She held the blue fabric out from her body. "My line of work doesn't lend to many of these."

"I think you look lovely." He took her hand, pressing a gentle kiss there. "But I'm biased so I wouldn't trust my opinion, if I were you."

"I think I'd trust your opinion very highly, Mr. Bates." Anna reluctantly took back her hand as he pivoted around her to offer his arm. "Especially considering what you've endured on my behalf."

"I could say the same for you." John cringed slightly. "Don't think I didn't hear about the visit my… acquaintance paid you this evening."

"Spying on me are you?"

"Henry happened to recognize her motor parked just up the street." John shrugged and nodded at the host as they approached the restaurant in the hotel. "He informed me that she might be trying to establish her dominance."

"She failed utterly in that regard." Anna's fingers tightened on his sleeve for a moment. "I'm not easily frightened."

"Which does bring me to another question," John offered Anna his hand as the host pulled out her chair so she could sit and then waved the man away to help her scoot toward the table. "Who is that man who's made his pestilential presence known at your house on no less than three occasions in the last two weeks."

Anna paused, tugging at her gloves. "You have been watching me."

"Mr. Branson has a few friends willing to offer their services and I thought of it as a protection of my investment." John paused, "If you think I've overstepped-"

"I do admit to feeling a little scrutinized."

"It's…" John swallowed, "I feel responsible. Not just in terms of our financial agreement but in terms of your reputation."

Anna raised an eyebrow and offered him a little snort. "As I'm sure Mr. Talbot informed you in the telegram he inevitably sent after our first pretend outing to a tea room, I'm not overly worried about my reputation in that regard."

"Then you're either putting on a very brave face or lying." John took a breath, "I don't regret what happened, or what I hope to suggest might continue to happen between us, but I do know that your business relies on what people think of you. Be your ships the fastest in the fleet, if anyone thinks you gained them through-"

"The arts of the strumpet?"

John choked and then shared in Anna's laugh. "I'm retreading ground Henry already covered, aren't I?"

"Yes, although he didn't tell me you were checking up on my welfare."

"He didn't know."

"So he couldn't lie to me?"

"Henry lying to you would be on his conscience, not mine."

"Then why?"

John shook his head, "One of the lessons my father taught me was compartmentalization. You can't have someone get the whole story from someone if they don't know it."

"Was your father a general or spymaster?"

"He's a banker," John shrugged, "It's a similarly cutthroat business."

"As I'm beginning to understand." Anna sighed, "As for the repellant man causing me a bit of bother, I do believe I broke his wrist earlier this evening so I don't think he'll cross me the same way again."

John's eyebrows rose, "His wrist?"

"He grabbed me." Anna bit at her lip, "I do admit that he threatened me with some spurious accusations as to the state of my virtue but the irony is that my virtue was what he wanted for himself."

"And you refused him."

"Multiple times, each more ardently than the last." Anna shook her head, "He's much like Mr. Pamuk, in his own way. A little less charming, attractive, or careful but the level of entitlement to my affections or attentions rings identical."

"The same Mr. Pamuk who Lady Mary…"

Anna nodded, "This man, Mr. Green, was introduced at a party I attended with Lady Mary. During that time the party host, Lord Gillingham, introduced us to the guests and one was Mr. Green."

"Tony Foyle? That Lord Gillingham?"

"The very same."

John snorted, "Given his overall character I would've thought he was the kind of man to surround himself with a higher caliber of people."

"There's something to be said about the person who shares you room at a British boarding school." Anna smiled at the sommelier as he approached their table. "I'm sure Mr. Bates here as his suggestions for the evening's wine."

The man turned to John, who only smiled. "A red, if you please."

"For the entire evening, sir?"

John watched Anna as she gave a little shrug. "I think we'll want a bottle of champagne for after dinner but the red will suffice."

The sommelier nodded and hurried off. Anna tracked his motions before a moment before narrowing her eyes at John. "I'm sure you've an explanation for a single bottle."

"I wouldn't want either of us claiming inebriation." John raised his water glass, "To the potential promise of a lovely evening."

"I'm convinced," Anna raised her glass as well, "That any evening I share with you will be lovely."

They clinked glasses as the waiter approached and John snorted at the contents of the menu. "I don't know why I always come to these rather fancy hotels when none of them offer something as simply as an Irish potato stew."

"Is someone feeling a little homesick for a home-cooked meal." Anna handed the waiter her menu, "Something a little less ostentatious?"

"Something a little more like me." John handed back his menu. "I'll take the chef's special for the evening."

"And the lady?" The waiter turned to her, "You didn't say."

Anna stared at John, "Have the chef surprise me. Remember to tell him that we're having a red wine for the duration of the meal so he should match appropriately, if he feels so inclined."

"I'm sure he'll enjoy the challenge." The waiter nodded to them both, scurrying away to leave John shaking his head at Anna.

"What?"

"After the take of ostentatious you decide to surprise yourself with an unnamed cuisine?"

"I'll have you know that I happen to know the chef at this restaurant." Anna smiled over the lip of her water glass. "He was also one of the guests at Lord Gillingham's party. I trust his instincts on food."

"You never fail to impress me, Ms. Smith."

"Nor you me." Anna paused, her finger circling the lip of her glass. "I'm sure you've heard the rumors."

"About you and Henry?"

"About war." Anna shook her head at John's little grin. "I believe you and he was appropriately matched in how incorrigible you both are."

"It's part of what makes us good partners. We understand one another in ways that others never quite have." John shrugged, "I believe it's got a lot to do with our very similar upbringings."

"Was he-"

"His father was a member of Parliament. Not an overly wealthy man but frugal and wise in his investments and choices. Henry's mother, on the other hand, was not. She came from money, had great ambition, and very little restraint in terms of trying to impress people with her wealth."

"Some have said the same about the Churchill family." Anna shuddered, "As a woman raised in a very middle-class household, I've got to say I can't understand that kind of flagrant spending."

"Henry's father passed from a heart attack when Henry was still in school. His mother was almost destitute in a year and required the help of her sister, Lady Shackleton, to save her from abject ruin. But the aid came at a cost, most of that being paid with Mrs. Talbot's pride." John shook his head, "She found herself a rich husband decided to suffer the licks she had to bear in return for his payment of her debts. Licks that… What Henry knows about them was enough to almost have him in prison for beating the man senseless."

Anna was silent a moment, "I'll assume that Mr. Talbot is no longer on speaking terms with his mother."

John nodded. "They've since parted ways. I hope not forever but I've a rather ugly feeling that he'll see his mother next when he offers the eulogy at her funeral."

"And his other family?"

"His aunt, Lady Shackleton, has him in her will and is the closest thing he has to a mother now." John flexed his jaw, "I think it's part of what had my father hire him to help manage his investments."

"As a lawyer?"

John nodded, "My father took me on as my mother's dying wish."

"She wanted him to have you?"

"She wanted me to be more than an orphan, shuffled from workhouse to workhouse until I died in a factory." John bit the inside of his cheek, his fingers turning his water glass in a slow circle. "But he took me, as his penance I guess, and he's not be overly disappointed with his investment. But it's that part of him, the risk taker, that answered that call. There's no fatherly affection in him toward me and we've very little love lost."

"But his risk in investing in you is the same risk he took with Mr. Talbot?"

"I believe so. So many lawyers are stuffy sharks hoping to drink you dry and take what they will from you. But Henry…" John gave a little laugh. "He's rather something else. A man of simple pleasures, very few vices, and a nose for intrigue that leads him down some very peculiar paths."

"A fascination with the interesting?"

"It's made my father, and me if we're speaking honestly, quite a bit of money." John sat straighter as the sommelier returned with two bottles. "Which one would you suggest?"

"This Bordeaux, sir, it's one of our finest."

"Then we'll try that one first." John motioned to Anna's glass first. "I'll trust her opinion of it before we commit."

Anna sat back as the sommelier dabbed into her glass and stepped back. Her fingers held carefully around the bowl of the glass, swirling the red slowly before taking a careful sniff. After a moment she sipped some between her teeth and a moment after that she nodded.

"I don't believe we'll need another one to confirm the excellence of this particular vintage."

"Then I believe we have our wine for the evening." John nodded at the man, "Thank you."

"I will warn you sir, the expense-"

"My good man," John opened his hand toward Anna. "Do you see the caliber of lady sitting across from me at this table?"

The sommelier glanced toward Anna and nodded. "Begging your pardon, miss, but you are one of the finest in here this evening."

"Thank you."

"Then, sir, do you not think that it's my duty to spare no expense where she's concerned in regard to the wine and the meal I provide this evening?" The sommelier nodded again, "We'll take the bottle and it'll be settled with the receipt for the evening, I assure you."

The sommelier took the other wine option and vanished, allowing John to face Anna again. "I do hope you don't feel I put you on the spot."

"I'm rather flattered." Anna let her teeth slide against one another a moment. "I do have to wonder if, perhaps, you've made a bit of a show of this evening for my benefit. Something Mr. Talbot assured me was not possible."

"I promise, this isn't to try and impress you with grander." John lowered his voice, "I know you're a woman of simple tastes. Not to say unrefined tastes, but simple. That woman was the one who preferred the canvases in my studio to the size of my library."

Anna's cheeks flushed a moment. "I'll assume your canvases still await painting since they're not the kind of luggage one packs when going home to visit their father."

"They do need to be painted, however," John let his tongue sweep slowly over his bottom lip and noted how Anna's breath caught in her chest. "I'll need help with the colors. I don't think I recall the shades of arousal well enough to paint them from memory. And there's an expression I hope to catch that can't be replicated from memory. Or, it shouldn't be replicated from memory."

"I've used the memory of yours to bring out my own." Anna took her wine glass in her hand as John's knee hit the top of the table. "Your tutelage was… an experience that I've not forgotten. I might even go so far as to suggest that I've become a bit of an expert in the matter."

"An expert?" John tried to control his breathing, the twitch in his jaw almost as painful as the ache he now gratefully hide under the table cloth. "Should I ask about a possible demonstration later?"

"Since you just bought this hotel and, as an investor in my company, I believe I'd be remiss if I didn't allow for a full tour." Anna let her eyes glance down to where John's fingers clutched the stem of his glass. "Of more than just the hotel."

Dinner could not end soon enough.

But Anna restrained herself from further teasing and John followed suit. The tightening of his trousers lessened as his force of will and a few deep gulps more than he initially intended of the wine eased his nerves. Neither he nor Anna seemed as interested in the wine as they were in one another the expensive bottle only sat half drunk by the time the waiter insisted on the menu for dessert, a compliment of the chef so impressed by Anna's compliments of his rather ambitiously Indian lamb.

"Does your chef approve of dessert eaten in a room?" Anna asked the waiter, nodding at John. "My husband and I are a bit exhausted after our day but I get puckish in the nighttime and I'd hate to be disappointed."

The waiter frowned, "I believe we could have one of our desserts delivered. I'd suggest one of the tortes or, perhaps, the cake as those wouldn't melt. While I recommend the ice cream rather highly it'd be a mess within the hour."

"Then…" Anna scanned the menu and pointed at one. "This one. Please have it delivered, with the rest of this wine and that bottle of champagne my husband mentioned, to room-"

"Six-Twelve." John dug into his pocket, extracting a card to hand to the waiter. "And please tell the front desk to put the meal for the evening and all of its various accouterments on the bill."

"Yes sir." The waiter half-bowed to them both. "Enjoy the remainder of your evening Mr. and Mrs. Bates. I do hope our little restaurant was to your liking."

"Thoroughly impressed." Anna accepted John's assistance in drawing back her chair. "And give my compliments to your chef again. He outdid himself."

The waiter offered another half-bow before snapping his fingers for someone to take care with the remaining wine in the bottle. John led them to the lifts and opened the grate for her before following Anna into the interior. He closed the grate and hit the button for the sixth floor before stepping closer to her. His fingers trailed over her glove and he noted the slight pimpling of her skin as if from cold.

But the way Anna's chest rose and fell told him otherwise. He offered a little smile, saying nothing as he continued the gentle caress over her until the lift stopped. The grate slid back smoothly and John offered his arm to her so they could walk the short paces to their room.

"I forgot to ask," Anna waited as John withdrew the key from his pocket. "What are our names for this evening?"

"What?" John stopped, his fingers holding the key to the lock, and turned over his shoulder to see Anna.

"I referred to you as my husband and the waiter didn't bat an eye. Does he believe we're married?"

John ducked his head and offered a sheepish smile. "I bought this hotel under my title. The staff here only know that a man, a John Bates, happened to reserve a room and a table for the evening for himself and his wife. I thought…"

Anna put her hand on his arm and put her fingers over his on the key. She held his gaze as she pushed the key in and turned the lock. "I rather like the idea of being Mrs. Bates. Even if it is for the evening."

John almost dropped the key.

He led them into the room, locking the door to prevent unintended visitors, and flicked the switch for the lights to give the room a lovely glow. Anna left him, her hand sweeping over his arm, and walked into the space. John could only watch her as she inspected the view from the windows, pulling the curtains over them enough to leave the view obscured but the light from the street glowing into the interior, and turned toward the chairs and sofa set in front of the fire. Her gloved fingers traced the back of the furniture before pausing briefly before the full-length mirror that faced toward the bed. John wondered if she inspected herself in it before she turned to the bed large enough to swallow her many times over and more than large enough for the two of them.

Anna pivoted to face him, opening her mouth to speak, but a knock at the door stopped her. She nodded toward it and disappeared to inspect the water closet as John opened the door. The bellboy there offered the bottle of wine, with two glasses, and what appeared to be an entire chocolate cake with accompanying forks on a tray. "From the restaurant sir. The cake is gratitude from the chef."

"Then," John extracted his billfold as he allowed the bellboy to put the tray on the table next to the fireplace. "Give him this and take this for yourself."

The bellboy's eyes almost bugged out at the currency he now held in his hands but nodded enthusiastically and was gone in a flash. When the door clicked closed, followed by the click of the lock, John heard Anna's voice. "Is our temporary guest already gone?"

"I didn't think you wanted company." John removed his jacket, hanging it in the wardrobe and removing his collar, tie, and cufflinks just as Anna existed the bathroom. "Anna…"

She smiled, turning a circle to display the jet black lingerie now caressing every curve of her body the way he wanted to. "I've a dress maker who has a husband who's… Let's say he's been very enthusiastic about her hobby to make better lingerie for women and she was more than willing to help me find something to wear for this evening."

"Your friend…"

"She's the one who fixed the dress, since it was a hand-me-down from Lady Mary." Anna shrugged, her arms almost going to cover herself. "I've not had many occasions to have dresses so fine and-"

John closed the distance between them and took her lips in an instant. Whatever worries might have worked themselves to the tip of her tongue, he swallowed. He took each and every one of them in his hands when they caressed over her bare arms and teased near the garter belt that held garters just out of reach of his fingers from his current position. So he drew back and looked her up and down. "You are exquisite. No dress could hide that or accentuate it. You outshine every light, every woman, and every room."

Anna took over the kiss then, her hand going to the back of his neck while the other held to his cheek as if to guide the motions of her mouth against his with three points of contact. John gave over to it, basking in the sweep of her tongue working into his mouth with a familiarity he dreamed about at night. She only broke for air when forced to and they both forced deep breaths before Anna's grin caught John's attention and forced him further off guard.

"What?"

"Did they deliver dessert."

"And the wine." John paused, peeking back at the tray before gazing down at Anna's black-clad form. "Do you want that first?"

"I think I can wait a little longer for cake." Anna's fingers played at the hair at the back of his neck. "I've waited two weeks for you and I don't think I want to wait any longer for that."

"Neither can I." John paused, licking over his lips. "But you've made it unfair."

"How so?"

"You've already taken the pleasure of my removing your dress." John's hands smoothed down her arms again. "At least there's still something left for me to remove, unlike last time."

"You're the one who wanted to make a risqué painting of me."

"A series." John corrected, grinning as Anna's fingers settled on the buttons of his waist coat and shirt to leave his chest open to her. "Perhaps I should only paint you for the rest of my life."

"And not the model?"

"The model I used, once," John specified as Anna's hands flattened on his chest before her nails grazed his skin to leave him hissing for breath. "Didn't get wet at the thought that I was drawing her naked."

Anna shuddered, "You use words like that and I can't-"

"I know." John grinned, tugging Anna back toward the sofa to leave his shirt and waistcoat by a chair where he toed off his shoes and abandoned his socks. "Which is why I want you to do something for me."

"What?"

"Tell me what you thought about when you became an expert while I was away." John put his hands to his trousers and undid the fastenings to allow them to thud to the floor with his braces. "I'm intrigued as to how much you learned while I was gone."

Anna blinked at him, her eyes going to where his hands pushing his pants out of the way and then sat on the sofa as naked as the day he was born. "You want me to tell you…"

"That's right." John nodded, his hands on the cushions for a moment. "That way I can show you what I did when I thought about you."

"I thought you were worried about this being unfair."

"Is it?" John looked over himself, "I'm finally more exposed than you in this."

"And you're… alright?"

John nodded, "I'm enjoying the reversal."

Anna swallowed and took one of the chairs so they sat close enough that their feet almost touched as she sat. Her eyes ran over John's body and he shivered under the leer in her gaze. "I thought about you. How you look, just like that."

"Like this?" John pointed to his body before leaning forward toward her. "Or did you think about me doing something?"

"I thought about you doing a great many things." Anna's chest rose and fell a bit faster now. John's hand drifted to her knickers, noting she put them on over her garters and the matching belt so when he dragged them free, the rest of her ensemble remained untouched. "I thought about you touching me."

"Good, because I thought about touching you as well." John slipped his hand between her legs and Anna slid to the edge of the chair to allow her legs to open wider so his fingers could stroke through her folds. "I thought about how, when I sketched you, your skin blushed and dampened. I still remember the gleam where you caught the light and wished I could sketch that before but with black pencil…"

John shook his head as his fingers slipped deeper and deeper, following the sighs and moans from Anna. "When I paint it, I'll do it as a series. I'll have one of you, with your back to the audience as if you don't know anyone's there. Then, you'll turn to them and you'll have a little gasp of surprise. But then, your legs'll open and you'll already be wet. Your hands will move down and you'll touch yourself. And then, it'll just be the expression of utter ecstasy on your face. The moment when you finish will be the most beautiful thing I've ever painted."

Anna's lips crashed on his, her hips twisting and grinding against his fingers to force them deeper inside her until John crooked them just so. She cried out but John noted how far from finished she was. The depths of pleasure still held there under the first touches. The touches that reminded her of the sensations his fingers could cause inside her. Those caresses and highlighted the size disparity between her fingers and his, the callouses on his hands different from hers, and the way he could stretch her until her body simply undulated with the desire to be released from its coil. A coil John gladly loosened when Anna came all over his fingers.

He waited, continuing to skim over her until he could extract his hand from the stranglehold of her vaginal walls, and only grinned at how the shine on his hand matched the one on her. Anna could only heave deep breaths as John sat back on the sofa and watched enraptured as John took his now slick hand to himself. Another pause, to ensure she focused only on him, and John started to squeeze and stroke himself while her eyes widened and then darkened.

"I dreamed about those paintings. The sketches begging for me to finish them." John hissed when he gripped himself, "I dreamed about you."

"In your father's house?"

"At any moment my mind wasn't occupied by anything else." John rested his head back on the sofa, but kept his gaze on her as he noted her fingers sliding down her body to touch herself. "I thought about the walk we shared, dinner, how brazenly you walked out from behind that screen, the way you allowed me to touch you, and your face… Always your face. Your eyes, your hair, the way you smile, and the expression you get when you finish. It filled every thought."

He grunted, unable to continue, and then gasped out when Anna removed his hand. John glanced between them, noting the way Anna held his wrist as her nostrils flared at her inspection of his quivering erection and the traces of her left there. She met his eyes when she brought his hand to her lips and licked the rest of her from him. John could hardly breathe and only groaned when she placed the same hand back between her legs as she put her knees on the cushions of the sofa on either side of his legs.

Her position, as precarious as her balance was when she began twisting and rutting onto his hand, forced John's other hand to her hip to steady her motions. Motions that had him jerking and twitching in response to the noises she made and the way she soaked his fingers. Their arousals only drove them to bring their lips together and John tasted her there. Tasted both versions of her there and drank deeply for each one. And drank even more deeply when she came again on his hand.

This time she sunk down. With as wet as they succeeded in making her, John had no trouble sinking right to the end of her and his fingers dug into her hips to force himself to slow. He distracted himself from his desire by focusing on how Anna teethed her lip and the scrunch of her eyes as if that would help her better comprehend the pleasure. And he followed her urgings to move when her body could take the knife's edge no longer.

They started slow, their bodies remembering the steps between them as if trying to summon the words to a song they had no sung since childhood. But soon, Anna's nails digging into his shoulders and his bruising her hips, they moved faster. Their synchronization allowing them to twist and gyrate together, to rock and grind, to roll and bob until the sounds from their mouths harmonized with the sounds of their bodies meeting. Each thrust and grind, each drive and twist had them gasping and moaning into one another's skin until John could hold back no longer.

He slipped his fingers between them as Anna tried to take him impossibly further, tried to find the end of their journey on her own, and brought her over the edge with a cry she buried in his neck. His end followed at the tight cling of her walls around him. The grip of her body uncompromising as he thrust into her until his body could only collapse back in exhaustion.

Anna leaned into him and John's arms found enough strength to hold her close. Close enough to kiss her temple and run his fingers through her hair as she settled her breathing evened to match his. Her fingers curled and flexed on his skin as she pushed herself away from his chest to look at him.

"Take me to bed John."

He stood, holding at her thighs still wrapped around him, and carefully worked toward the large bed. With only a moment of maneuvering, he managed to get her onto the mattress before kneeling before her. Anna's fingers pulled at his shoulders, as if to urge him onto the bed, but he positioned her on the edge and used his shoulders to spread her legs apart.

His lips kissed her abdomen and with a touch he signaled for her to remove the corset. It dropped to the floor and John's lips trailed up to her breasts. Anna's fingers clenched and held at the back of his head when he took her nipple into her mouth, running his tongue over it with a sincere dedication that left Anna's back arching. And he only matched the level of adoration when he turned to her other breast to repeat the action. Actions he soon drew back to replace with the work of his hands when their lips came together.

Anna's tongue plunged into his mouth, her fingers trembling against his skin as she held tightly along his jaw, and moaned into the caverns of his mouth as his hands continued to knead her breasts. But when she broke the kiss, her chest heaving from both his touches and her need for air, John tracked his way back between her legs. Between the state of her arousal and the continued efforts of his hands, John lacked no imagination in the degree of damp he found there and reveled in the taste of her already soaking his tongue when he dragged it against her.

Her nails bit into his scalp, his hair tufting between her fingers as she grasped harder with each successive pull against her sensitive folds, but John did not mind. All that mattered was leaving Anna sated and satisfied and, in this case, so utterly overcome she could hardly speak. Half words and phrases tumbled from her mouth as he used the point of his tongue to enter her and suck her folds between his teeth. And the pitch to her voice rose with her volume when he sacrificed a hand at one breast to put his fingers back inside her while his mouth sucked at her clit.

She shattered shortly after that, collapsing back onto the bed as John eased her down from her high with softer runs of his tongue. But the licking ceased when Anna's fingers carded gently through his hair and her whimper urged him to look at her. With a nod he helped to situate her on the bed and climbed up to position himself next to her.

It was a surprise, then, that with her flagging strength she managed to wrap her hand over him. The swift tug and pull, the squeezing stroke she initiated as their eyes met and John bit back his own guttural groan, urged him forward between her boneless legs. He tried to hold back, to wait for her to be more ready, but Anna's soft voice reached him over the thunder of blood in his ears.

"Take me now John. Please."

He thrust forward and they both whimpered together. John waited, his hands taking their turn to shake as they smoothed over her quivering thighs. But Anna only pulled her legs higher and John organized their positions so he could strike those places inside her that would leave her trembling with her finish. He found them and aimed his thrusts as dutifully as possible until Anna came with her own sobbing cry. The cry of a body utterly exhausted and flush with pleasure.

The same cry that snapped John's control. He lifted her leg higher, catching it in the crook of his elbow to change the angle and sink even deeper into her. Anna's back arched and she accepted every deep drive until John recognized the tightening of her muscles. The impossible reality of her orgasm triggering his own so they came together, collapsing into a tangle of limbs. A tangle that left John's head on her shoulder and her leg over his arm.

After a few minutes, John rearranged them so his weight did not crush Anna into the mattress and so they could try and breathe normally. His body jerked and spasmed as the stuttering motions of abject pleasure continued to course through him until he could comprehend reality again. Reality he recognized with a knock at the door. Anna's fingers settled on his arm and she shook her head.

"Pretend you didn't hear it."

"I'm not going anywhere." John kissed her forehead and nodded at her legs. "You're still wearing your garters."

"Someone didn't manage to get them off before he got me off." Anna grinned and John could not stop himself kissing her deeply. So deeply he almost did not hear the second set of knocking.

"Bloody…" He grumbled and worked himself slowly off the bed, snatching a dressing gown to wrap around himself to open the door. Before he could speak the bellboy from earlier held up another tray, this one with champagne on it.

"I forgot to get this with the wine and the dessert sir. Sorry for the delay."

John sighed, "It's not a problem. I almost forgot myself."

"If you'd like sir…" The boy nodded toward the interior of the room but John took the tray himself.

"No thank you."

"But sir-"

Before the boy could argue, John shut the door and locked it again. He set the tray on the table with the first and pursed his lips before opening the champagne. With a learned expertise, he carefully managed the foaming explosion and filled the two glasses without spilling a drop of the golden liquid.

When he turned with the glasses in his hand, Anna sat with her back against the headboard, her garters still in place, and a smile on her face. "Is that for the next round? A bit of liquid courage?"

"Not sure you need it." John pretended to hold back but handed it over to her. "You're already braver than me."

"You make me brave." Anna clinked her glass against his.

"You make me brave too." John followed her lead and drank his glass dry. He set it on the bedside table and shed the dressing gown to perch over her. "Now, about that next round."


	10. A Looking Glass

She put another bite on the fork and offered it to John. He leaned up to slide the tines of the fork between his teeth and shifted his hips to have Anna whimpering at the sensation of him at her ass. "You're making it impossible to feed you."

"I'm already full from you." John licked over his lips, one of his fingers playing between her legs to run lightly over her. "But I could always manage another helping if you'd prefer."

"I think you should eat more first." Anna took a bite of the cake for herself, offering a little moan. "It's possibly the most delicious thing I've ever had."

"I've had better." John's eyebrows wagged and Anna only sighed, forcing another bite of the cake into his mouth.

"If you continue to flatter me, Mr. Bates, I might just have to marry you."

John caught Anna's wrist as she moved to put another piece of cake in his mouth. "Would that be so bad?"

Anna paused, noting nothing but absolute sincerity in his expression. "You'd deign to marry me? The daughter of a middle-class shipping magnate?"

"No," John shook his head, taking the plate from her to set on the bedside table before forming his hand to fit along the line of her jaw. "I'd be honored to marry the owner of a profitable shipping company. More importantly, I'd rather like the idea of marrying you."

"You barely know me."

"True, but we'll get to know one another." John's face took on the hint of a smile. "I've moved my entire life to London now. There's nothing stopping me from courting you. From attempting to woo you. And, if you'd agree, perhaps to one day marry you."

"They say," Anna tried to keep her voice light as she drew her finger down the length of his nose. "That you should never marry your muse. It'll spoil the illusion and then where would you be?"

"Painting you for the rest of my life."

"Be serious."

"I am." John put his hands on her hips, his thumbs brushing against the bone as Anna adjusted her position, unintentionally shifting herself closer to where he rested hot and hard against her ass. "I've more than enough money to last me the rest of my life if I wanted to do nothing other than paint all day. With the investments I've made, and a little management, I could easily live in the lap of luxury until I decompose."

"How very macabre."

"Perhaps." John's fingers drifted between Anna's legs and she gave a little gasp. "But if it meant I could live the rest of my life with you…"

"Again," Anna leaned over him, leaving his fingers but pressing against his arousal with more pressure now. "We don't really know one another."

"And, as I said," John's hands continued at cross purposes with one moving between her legs while the other framed her face so one thumb soothed a stroke over her cheekbone and the other flicked at her nerves. "We've time for that now."

"The cart's still before the horse."

"Then it's a good thing we work in shipping." John teased and brought their lips together.

For a moment Anna considered resisting but then gave over to the kiss, humming against his lips when he tried to invade her mouth with his tongue. But she pulled away, immediately burying her face between his jaw and neck to kiss a ring around him. John almost moved but Anna's hands found both of his wrists and moved them above his head. Their eyes met and the dilation of his pupils, darkening his eyes in time with the hitch in his breathing, had Anna looping them into a knot of sheet there. John tugged at it before rolling his shoulders back.

"I guess I'm at your mercy, Ms. Smith."

"I guess you are." Anna rocked her hips back, maneuvering so her folds spread over the length of him, and slid back and forth while watching John's face contort to match the sounds strangling free of his throat. "I plan to have my way with you, if you don't mind."

"How could I possibly manage to mind?" John's neck arched as he pressed his head back into the pillow when Anna ground down on him. "Is this what you've thought about while I was away."

"I thought about a great many things, Mr. Bates," Anna paused, pushing his hair away from his eyes. "These are just a few of my favorite things."

Anna pressed a kiss to his forehead, his eyes, his cheeks, his chin, and then down his neck again. She bent herself in half to adore his chest until the angle proved too difficult to continue her lathering of affections. Pressing her hands to his shoulders, Anna glided back to land on his thighs while her kisses continued to his abdomen. Each kiss moved closer and closer to his twisting hips and one of her hands wrapped around him as if to give her a point of reference when she settled her weight on her knees.

Their eyes met and Anna lowered her mouth to kiss just at the tip of him. His fingers clawed at the sheet barely holding his wrists and Anna smiled around him while sucking at just his tip in slow motions. As his voice rose in pitch, the struggle twitching in his body struggling to stay still, Anna swallowed more of him and her hands took to managing the rest as if she wanted to memorize him in her very fingertips. But, as he swelled under her tongue, Anna drew back.

John's chest rose and fell like a racehorse, the expelling of air ringing harsh and raw as if he tried to run full out in the middle of winter. But he choked on a groan when Anna lifted on her knees and sank down him. The work of her mouth, while still amateur but no less enthusiastic for her inexperience, offered the lubrication she needed. In conjunction with her own body's response, Anna only needed a few rocking motions to bring their pelvises together.

She leaned over John, biting at her tongue when the angle worked him differently inside her, and reached up to loosen his hands. They immediately clapped on her hips but instead of taking the offering of her lips, John nodded just behind her. Anna shifted, another change in angle bringing matching moans from them, and noticed the mirror.

The lights in the room, scattering yellow glows amidst shadows and the dark of night settling deeply outside the barely gauzed window, dotted like pinpricks over Anna's body in the mirror. She could see them, the way their bodies bent and tangled together and seemed to fit so perfectly. More than that she could see the power in her motion. Not like the first time she took this position. The time John insisted it would reduce the possible pain of her first foray into sexual experience. This time it was the pose of a woman about to take what she wanted.

And Anna flushed red at the thought before pressing with her knees. Both down into the mattress and hard against John's hips. With her hands on his chest, Anna took the position of a rider and did exactly that with John acting as her steed. The horse finally going before the cart.

John, for all the patience he displayed and the strain his body already bore, offered himself as her willing servant. He followed her leads, succumbed to her holds, and fed her every desire. They kissed intermittently, sloppy affairs that only served to steal their already endangered breath. Their hands roved over the skin it could reach and clung for support when they could no longer find it in themselves. And, when they finally crashed together, they sagged limply into the mattress and simply attempted to breathe.

Anna lay back, her eyes closed to focus her thoughts on the simplest of natural body mechanics, and only allowed herself to haul in deep breaths before releasing them. Fingers trailing over her arm had her shifting sideways to stare at John. One of his hand, the one not tracing indistinguishable patterns over her arm, moved hair back from her face so he could stare at her. The grin, one that brought a twinkle to his eye that Anna was sure was no trick of the light, had her matching it as she reached forward to let her fingers card through his mussed hair.

"What?"

"I…" He let out a little snorting laugh, catching her hand to kiss the inside of her wrist. "I was just going to say that you've had your way with me, Ms. Smith."

They both giggled together, shifting closer to one another on the bed. Anna propped herself sideways, her hands tucking under her head as John matched her position, and they were silent for another moment before John spoke again. "I just hope you don't live to regret it."

"I do hope you're not about to preach another warning sermon about the perils to my virtue because if it wasn't well and truly shattered the last time I stayed in a bed with you, it is now." Anna put her finger over John's lips, to stop his planned retort. "And I couldn't ever regret it."

"But-" He tried to manage around her finger but Anna just pressed harder.

"I may not know much, Mr. Bates, about how all of this works given our positions and the society in which we live, but I do know a few things. And one of those things, that I know for sure, is that I am now who I was meant to be."

Before Anna could draw her finger away, John's mouth closed over it. He allowed his tongue to wrap the digit before sucking back to allow her to escape with a 'pop'. Anna shivered as John only smiled.

"Then I guess you've already made up your mind."

"I have." Anna continued staring at him, watching the small jumps of muscles as if his face would reveal his thoughts to her. "What've you made up in your mind, Mr. Bates. Because I can see thoughts flashing over your features."

"Mind reader now too?" John made a show of narrowing his eyes as if trying to focus very hard on something. "What am I thinking now?"

Anna only swatted at him, "You know what I mean."

"I had two thoughts." John pushed himself upright and displayed the equivalent number with his fingers. "The first was that now I'll have to marry you because you've made me so intensely happy I'm not sure I could share this or you with anyone else."

"Oh?" Anna pushed herself up to match his pose, "And what is the second thought you had to match the weight of this ludicrous submission for the first?"

"That I want to try something… different."

Anna narrowed her eyes, "I do hope you're not about to suggest anything unbiblical because I'll have to put my foot down there."

"After you've already engaged in fornication?"

"I'm sure my priest will forgive that. There are other things they're not so forgiving for."

"Then," John leaned forward, putting his hands on either side of her bent legs. "You'll be happy to know that this, while not specifically stated in the Bible, would meet with approval… Or, at least, it wouldn't be strictly prohibited."

"I'm not entirely comforted." Anna shifted, "What've you got in mind?"

"Something a little more… natural."

"As in…"

"Primal." John dragged a finger from her throat to between her breasts. "You've been to a farm before, haven't you?"

"Yes." Anna swallowed, a thrill running through her body in time with a shivering of nerves. "Are you about to suggest something a bit more… animalistic?"

"It's completely safe."

"That wasn't my question." Anna leaned forward, her lips on meeting John's. "Because if this is retaliation for me trying to temporarily incapacitate your hands then I'll just give my apologies now and pray for forgiveness."

John's face turned to a leer as one of his hands risked his balance to run between her legs. "Oh no, I rather enjoyed being at your mercy and, given another opportunity, I'd love to do it again. But… This is different."

"Other than position, how?"

"Do you remember, when you were in my house, before you left…" Anna nodded and John's fingers eased her legs apart so her knees runched the sheets in her shift. "There's a trust to this. A… An inherent dependency."

"You want me to depend on you?"

"I want you to know that you could." John's fingers paused, holding just at the edge of her as their eyes met. "That way, should you ever desire to depend on me, you know that you could."

"This is about me?"

"Don't you understand Anna?" John's fingers drew a gasp from her when he entered her in a rush. "It's always about you."

Anna's hands interlaced behind John's neck and dragged his lips to hers. They leaned on one another like cards in a carefully built house. Her fingers molded and dug into the skin of his back and shoulders and neck while his fingers continued to tempt her toward the edge of pleasure. Pleasure he gave her with carefully applied pressure from his thumb until she shuddered and squeezed around him.

They broke apart and John dragged Anna to the edge of the bed, her hands not leaving his skin when she thought he might be trying to escape her. But once at the edge of the bed, John stepped back and took a breath. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes." Anna could only breathe, her body still quivering in the aftermath of a pleasure she was not sure she could find at any other hands but his.

"Then turn around and balance on your knees and hands."

Anna followed his instructions, taking the position with a little guidance and adjustment from John, and wondered for a moment if she looked the fool she felt when her body posed as if she might crawl across the bed at any moment. But John's lips over her back, his hands smoothing over her skin, his grasp and knead of her breasts, the careful caress of her legs, and finally his mouth and fingers back where he never failed to please her drove all thoughts of ridiculous display from her mind. All that mattered was seeking out that pleasure with him. Finding the moment she peaked and basking in the glow.

A glow John only amplified when he entered her. The position offered him a tighter entrance and her a deeper sensation. Anna's back arched and her eyes closed to try and comprehend the new riot of nervous emotion that halted at the edge of recognizable before cresting in untold climes of ecstasy. Ecstasy that John dragged out with a pace he alternated between excruciatingly slow and punishingly swift until Anna could no more guess his next move than give the accurate answer for the color of the sheets she clutched as tightly between her fingers as her vaginal walls clung to him. And with the symphony of them coming together in her ears, Anna could only trust in the primal instincts of her body to respond.

John's lips covered her shoulders and neck in sloppy kisses, changing the angle between them as he draped over her, and his hands massaged her breasts. Anna twisted her head, taking his lips as much as she could before settling for the heat of his cheek on hers when she could not regulate her breathing. Determined pressure and careful circles of her nerves left Anna shivering toward a finish that John beat her to find. The final stutters of his body, snapping sticky skin together to bring her ass perfectly in line with his hips, allowed her body to rush a finish before they collapsed sideways in a tangled mess of limbs on the bed.

Pushing herself up, the third time finally accomplishing the herculean task, Anna faced John. His eyes closed, his chest rising and falling quickly, and the thud of his heart under her skin almost convinced Anna to wait, to let him rest. But John's eyes opened and he covered her hand with his as a smile came over his face.

"How do you feel?"

"I don't have the words."

He gave a little laugh, "That seems a common frustration for you in these situations. Perhaps I ought to gift you a thesaurus, give you all the possible iterations of expression you could ever need."

"I don't think there are adequate words for what you do to me John." Anna tipped forward, placing a kiss firmly on his lips. "But thank you."

"You never have to thank me. It's-"

"A pleasure to pleasure, so you've said." Anna moved her fingers to push hair from his eyes. "But it's not about that."

"Then what is it?"

"It's about…" Anna flexed her jaw, "You put me first, John."

"As I should."

"I'm just curious," Anna shifted, holding herself on her elbow and hip. "Why? Why, after all this, do you take any interest in me at all?"

"If you thought I was seducing you for a few delightful romps under some sheets then you've confused me for someone else."

"I'd never do you the dishonor of thinking that."

John's eyes narrowed, "But you're aware you're not my first."

"Women are rarely the first for men, that's an unfortunate fact of the society in which we live." Anna made a little shrug with her shoulder. "It's why Mr. Talbot and I hurdled all those hoops together. To avoid the stain on my character."

"And that's not enough of a reason to put you first?"

Anna shook her head, "You've put me first since we saw one another at the Bavarian Embassy and while I'm flattered, beyond pleasured, and very pleased, I can't, for the life of me, understand what you see in me."

"I do hope you're not fishing for compliments."

"I own a shipping company, Mr. Bates, I don't fish for anything."

John laughed and pushed himself up, maneuvering to put his back to the headboard. "I saw great promise in you, Ms. Smith."

"Like a protégé?"

"Like a way to possibly, and forever, escape the clutch of a woman I despise and a father who doesn't think much of me."

"Through investing in me?"

"That was the initial desire, yes." John paused, "But that's a lie in and of itself, isn't it? Because it's not the whole truth."

"What?"

"That moment, as I led Vera down the stairs to start her ball, I saw you. And…" John let out a breath, staring up at the ceiling as if his text might be written there for his memory. "I'm not one to believe in love at first sight. It's what put my mother in a position to bear a man's bastard and it's what's caused my half-siblings more than a few troubles of their own in a similar regard."

"But?"

"But the moment I saw you it was… It was like watching a multitude of possible futures unfold in an instant. A million fractals of opportunity unfold like a never-ending flower with you at the center." John shrugged, "It sounds ridiculous to even put into words but every interaction I had with you from that night, starting with the dances you allowed me, told me it was true."

John sighed, almost sagging back onto the headboard. "That's the promise I saw in you. It's selfish and it might be an illusion and it could be that I've starved myself of decent company for so long I latched onto the first proof of it I could find but…" He floundered for words and Anna waited, the moment stretching to silence before he spoke again. "But I want things with you I've never wanted with anyone before and while that frightens you, I'll admit it scares the hell out of me."

Anna did not answer. She only leaned forward and took his hand. John blinked at her but followed her insistent tug as she dragged them from the bed to stand before the large mirror. A pivot put her body in front of his, blocking his view of the mirror, and her fingers interlaced at the back of his neck to bring his lips almost to touch hers.

"It frightens me, what you see in me. Not because no one's ever seen potential in me, because they have. But because I've spent so much time struggling to not be seen that you tore all that away. You took every bit of illusion and shroud from me until you stripped me bare. When you painted me, naked as I was, it wasn't as naked as I've ever felt."

"When was that?" His voice, barely a whisper, raised the hairs on her skin.

"When I saw the first paintings you tried to do." Anna's eyes met his, despite the shadows and the pricks of light around the room seeking to prevent them seeing one another. "When I realized that you thought highly enough of me to try and understand me. You wanted to paint me because you wanted to know me and… After so many men who courted me for money or opportunity or even position, it scared me to realize someone might want me for me."

"Why would that scare you?" His fingers, so delicate, creased over her face as if tracing lines on his own painting.

"Because I was afraid you may not like what you discovered in the end. That I could possibly disappoint you when I already thought so highly of you."

John put his forehead to hers, his eyes closing as if he could communicate his next thoughts by osmosis or telepathy. "You could never disappoint me, Anna."

Anna finally kissed him, dragging it out so they almost lost feeling of their position except in relation to one another. When she pulled away from him, his lips bearing the hints of swelling and a deepness in his eyes that hints she could see his soul, Anna turned in his arms. One of her hands held to the top of the mirror and she looked over her shoulder at him.

"So I can see you."

John kissed her, harder than before, and his hands immediately set to work. Anna's grip on the top of the mirror grounded her but her gaze watched in fascination that almost separated her from what she felt. His hands moving over her body to knead her breasts or sculpt her arms, or cover her abdomen, or glide down her legs before venturing between them was almost as if she watched his actions on another body. Despite each and every ripple of his calloused fingers over her skin sending shivers of pleasure tingling in her extremities to the point she was sure she might set the carpet aflame with the boil in her blood.

But John held steady. His leg nudging hers apart so his fingers could have better access, was almost a whisper of motion. Their eyes met in the mirror and John's other hand covered Anna's spare to bring it between her legs to join his. They watched one another as John allowed Anna to guide his motions inside her while she noted the strain in his jaw while he thickened and hardened at her back. It only took a few more motions to bring her over the edge. And only one after that to join them in an embrace Anna wondered if she would ever tire of.

She doubted it.

They shifted and shunted together, the pace almost easy by comparison to the earlier exploits of their evening and night. His other hand left his steadying grip at her hip to cover her hand on the top of the mirror and followed her sounds to set the pace between them. And when they struggled to keep their balance, John's hand left Anna's center to hold her other hip. His expression through the mirror only gave her a nod as Anna continued the work of her own arousal while John's thrusts worked harder and deeper inside her.

He never quickened his motions, choosing instead to drag out their pleasure until Anna was sure she might combust from the overlay of thrills cresting in continual waves over her. Each one seeming to come to a conclusion before John encouraged her further, away from an easy finish to one that might grant her more pleasure. And when her fingers brushed him accidently, or when he encouraged her to explore him between her legs, or the squeeze of his hand over hers on the mirror to leave biting marks in her skin, Anna finally came.

The rush was nothing compared to watching John's eyes as they studied her finish, carefully scripting his motions to prolong it until Anna could go no further. And she watched him as he finally allowed himself to release, the give-and-take of their bodies matching in the twitch of muscles and shudders of response until Anna noted the obstruction to her vision was her hot breath fogging the mirror. Their hands interlaced but unwound from the top of the mirror as John guided them back to the bed so they would not fall to the floor.

Anna dozed. Her body could not have avoided the pull of sleep had she tried to fight it and with John's gentle breathing setting the pace, she easily slipped into sleep. The kind of sleep without dreams. The kind of sleep that does not easily relinquish its hold on the sleeper but Anna eventually forced herself to blink her eyes, groggily taking in the room.

She pushed herself up, a hand moving to try and tame the mass of hair now tangled and matted from sleep. And, Anna smiled to herself to mask a little wince, a rather athletically ambitious evening. Easing herself out of the bed, Anna padded toward the water closet and ducked inside to try and freshen her appearance. The tiny clock on the wall warned her of the early hour and Anna debated collecting her scattered clothing and trying to sneak back to her home.

A knock on the door stopped her and Anna opened it a crack to see John. "I do hope you'd not leave without saying goodbye."

"I was just freshening up." Anna came out of the water closet, taking a deep breath at the appearance of John in all his naked glory, painted only by the gray light of the early morning. "But I should think about getting home."

"What if, instead," John crowded her close to the wall, his hands skimming her skin as if it was the first time he touched her instead of the hundredth. "I whisk you far away and we live in secret together until someone finds us?"

"I'd think you read too many romance novels not meant for young ladies." Anna put her hands to his chest, part of her saying she should push back and try to save her dignity. But the stronger part of her urging a gentle exploration of his skin. "I don't think we'd survive on our own."

"Have you no faith in me?"

"We've not officially courted yet and I'll not be a victim of a new age Abduction Club."

"Not even if you wanted to be whisked away and forced to marry a dashing man?" John raised his eyebrows at her, his fingers teasing near her breasts.

"You're not after my money, which would defeat the purpose."

"It is a retelling of an old tale."

"Which one?" Anna's hands worked lower, one of them gripping at his ass to leave John grunting and half-bucking toward her.

"When a man loves a woman-"

Anna put her other finger over John's mouth. "Don't say that, not yet."

John moved her finger away, "Why not?"

"Because I don't think we're in love yet. Like, yes. Lust, most certainly. But love…" Anna shook her head. "We've the foundation but we've not built anything. Love is built, John, and while I believe all the words you've said to me and you believe them, I don't think we're in love. Not yet."

John nodded, "That's more than fair."

"However," Anna's hand finally reached her destination and John hissed out when she wrapped around his length. "I don't mind getting to know you better."

She sank to her knees before John, her hand working at the base while her mouth wrapped over the rest of him. His fingers dug into her hair, the grip on her scalp massaging in time with the work of her hand on him. Anna sighed into the sensation and received a responding groan from John when the vibration of her jaw worked around him.

The stroke of her tongue had his fingers digging deeper into her scalp. When she sucked hard on him, John's hand thudded against the wall behind her. And just before Anna could finish running her tongue inside the intriguing slit she found at the tip, John urged Anna up. She took a final suck before rising up to kiss John.

His tongue swirled around the inside of her mouth, holding her against the wall as he ground against her. Anna ground back but then gasped when John broke the kiss. He took her former position and, with her leg over his shoulder, started his running his tongue along the length of her. Anna's fingers dug into John's scalp and tugged at his hair to try and guide his motions. The swift turn around soon had Anna crying over the edge.

Her foot hit the floor and John took her mouth the moment their lips could meet. Anna's fingers carded into his hair, holding him close to her as they almost fought for dominance in that moment. John's hand went to her leg and brought it to her hip so he could grind closer to her. Anna moved her hands to his shoulders, holding there for a moment as she jumped up to wrap both of her legs around his hips. He held her for a moment before pressing her to the wall at the same moment he thrust into her.

The urge to kiss John would not dissipate. Despite the thud of her back against the wall, Anna would not separate her lips from his. They parted only briefly for air but continued trying to kiss one another despite growing steadily sloppier as they pressed toward one another. Each motion left them struggling to improve their artistry but exuberance and effort mattered more than skill as they came together. They sped up until Anna clenched around him with her finish. John's final thrusts held them together for a few final moments until they slumped against one another.

Anna put her forehead on John's shoulder, her fingers shaking as they held to his shoulders. "Don't put me down yet. I think my legs have the consistency of custard and I can't support myself yet."

"I won't." John held her carefully and maneuvered back to the bed.

They slumped together, Anna's fingers combing through John's hair as he did the same with hers. After a few minutes they settled and Anna worked herself back enough to see John's face. Leaning forward, she kissed him until dots of black spotted her vision. When she broke the kiss, her fingers still moving through his hair, Anna studied his face.

"I just want you to know, if I do fall in love with you, it won't be hard."

"No?"

"Not at all." Anna kissed him quickly and pushed away shift off his legs.

But she did not get far before John pulled her back to him. Her back hit his chest and her legs fell on either side of his as John's hands moved over her. Breath wisped past her ear as John whispered to her.

"I'm already falling in love with you, Anna, and it's not been hard at all."

"No?"

"No." John's forehead nudged against her jaw and pointed Anna's focus toward the mirror. "Watch us Anna."

She could not pull her eyes away, watching John's hands as they covered her breasts, moved over her abdomen, and then between her legs. It took no time at all for Anna to raise herself up enough to sheath him. They paused for a moment before moving again. The only time Anna was not enraptured by the view of them in the mirror were the moments that she tried to kiss John. They shifted and moved until they both came.

The clock in the corner chimed and Anna leaned back onto John's chest. "I should go home."

"Or stay here with me."

Anna laughed, her fingers stroking down his face before she maneuvered off his lap. "As much as I would love that, I do have a reputation to pretend to still possess, even if I can't claim to still have it."

"What will you do, then, about the reputation you've built up with Henry?"

"We'll have an amicable separation and then you'll sweep in and rescue me." Anna put her hands on his knees, leaning over to kiss John. "Now you'll just have to find a way to get me home without anyone seeing me."

"I like the challenge."


	11. On the Street Where You Live

John tapped his pen against the paper before shaking his head. "Henry, I can't sign this. If I do then we've officially aligned and-"

"You've already made a decision by moving your business here." Talbot leaned back, "And thank you, so much, for ending what was probably the best relationship that I've ever had."

"It wasn't real."

"Real enough." Talbot winked at him, "But I'm happy for you all the same. Saved me the horror of having to break her poor heart when I told her that all her love could do nothing to help melt my heart."

John rolled his eyes. "Yes, I'm sure you suffered horribly when she called things off officially."

"Cried for days." Talbot mimed wiping at his eye with a finger. "But it's better this way. You saved me a lot of heartache."

"You're welcome." John managed an exaggerated sigh and turned back to the other possible contracts in front of him.

"What number is tonight?"

John raised his head, "Excuse me?"

"The number of times you've taken her to a show or a restaurant or out on the town?" Talbot finished skimming the page in his hand and added it to a pile on John's desk between them. "I'm sure you've calculated the minimum number you'd need to perform for society's sake before you can ask for her hand."

"Where'd you get the idea-"

"And, that being your plan, I'd suggest you do it sooner rather than later."

John put down the paper in his hands, folding them over one another on the table to raise an eyebrow at Talbot. "And why, pray tell, do you suggest that?"

Talbot looked up at him, "She consulted with a doctor yesterday and, from my intelligence, it's of a maternal nature."

"What?"

"I think, John, she's in the family way." Talbot winked at him, "Must be yours since I know she and I never-"

"Henry," John held up a hand, "How do you know about this?"

"Did you think I'd stop following her? She's even more crucial now that Britain's followed suit and declared war on Germany." Talbot signed something on the page before him and handed it to John. "She'll be building war ships soon, the contract's all but signed and it's massive."

"You're justifying continuing your network of surveillance on the woman I'm courting because she's of financial concern to us?"

Talbot frowned at John, "I would've thought my investment in her well-being was more obvious than the financial."

"Those were your words, not mine."

"Fine." Talbot put one leg over the other and let his hands relax on the arms of his chair. "During our, admittedly false, courtship, I took great feeling for Ms. Smith. Nothing romantic, so please put down the glove you'd use to challenge me for her hand as I've no interest in it."

"You're dancing around the point Henry."

"I consider Ms. Smith one of a select group of particularly exemplary ladies. The kind of lady that a knight swears to die for and, in this case, I'd be that knight."

Lines formed in John's forehead. "You've been following Anna because you don't want her to come to harm?"

"And because she's the love of your life John. Considering the value you have to me and she has to me, wasn't it in the best interest of us both to have me continue having her surveilled for her protection?"

John sat back in his chair, "And your sources, you trust them on their intelligence regarding the… matter?"

Talbot snorted, "You're the one who's engaged in rather inappropriate behavior for a couple of unmarried individuals."

"Alright, do you believe the suggestion that Anna's pregnant?"

"Given that she's a rather beautiful nurse on whom I've doted a few times, yes, I trust that she wouldn't lie to me."

"Because you've not taken her virtue?"

Talbot laughed, "John, I've never taken a woman's virtue. I have only ever engaged with women whose virtues are… of a less decided nature. It's safer and means they've as much to teach me as I have to teach them."

"I'm sure I'll understand the desire to test all the available wines when I want to drink more than one."

"When you find the perfect wine on the first try there's no need to taste more." Talbot shrugged, "I've just got a wine for every occasion and they don't seem to mind the occasions where I bring them out."

"You do realize that means you could their wine for a special occasion?"

"I find I don't mind." Talbot tapped the desk, "But that's hardly the matter at hand here. We're discussing how you'll propose to the woman bearing your child."

"I'd like to confirm that for myself before I go down on a knee in Trafalgar Square and make a fool out of us both."

"As Ms. Austen said, 'We're all fools in love' and I don't think she'd mind."

"Anna would." John's voice went quiet. "She'd want something personal. Something with little fanfare. A private request and a celebration between us and the few friends she truly wants to know."

"Then ask her to dinner at a private club and make sure that you've got a booth in the back all to yourselves."

John shook his head, "Not before I've confirmed with her."

"You do realize that if you do it that way, she'll think you're only marrying her out of obligation to support the child?"

"Better that than her finding out through a series of unfortunate circumstances that you've had her tailed and you told me in secret." John pushed back from the desk, "And if we're sure, then I'll sign it."

"That'll send you to war." Talbot stood as well, "I know I'm all for you declaring on the side of the government on whose soil we now stand but I'll have you know that marrying a woman and leaving her a widow as soon as you've made her a wife isn't fair."

"It's Robert's division and he's asked for me personally."

"And what'll your wife ask you?" Talbot sighed, "You've already served John. You went all the way to China with Lord Grantham to fight the Boxers. You don't need to go to France to fight the Kaiser too."

"Perhaps not, but that's a decision to be made between myself and the woman I'm going to ask to marry me." John pulled a cord as he worked himself into his jacket and then turned to Andrew as the man appeared at the door. "I'll need my hat, coat, and Branson to bring the car around. I'm going to Ms. Smith's office."

"I'll have them in a second." Andrew bowed out of the door and John followed him with Talbot on his heels.

"Is this really wise?"

"Wiser than leaving it be." John paused on the turn of the stairs to face Talbot. "I'll not be my father and wait for responsibility to confront me."

"Sometimes I wonder if you realize that your life is guided by the line 'I'll not be my father' and how ridiculous that'll sound when you get yourself into trouble or killed because your pride won't allow for a little wiggle room."

"I'm not built to bend, Henry."

"If not then you're built to break." Talbot crossed his arms over his chest as John threaded his arms through the sleeves of the coat Andrew held up. "We all need to be a little flexible. An immovable object cracks to pieces just as wood splinters."

"Well," John shrugged, taking his hat from Andrew. "I guess I'll have to risk what that could mean."

"If you do ask for her hand, and she does say yes." Talbot kept on John's heels to the door, his hand blocking John from leaving for a moment. "Then I'm grateful that she's got a bit more sense than you do."

"Then I'm doing exactly as my mother advised, and marrying above myself."

Talbot sighed, "I pity that woman."

John only nudged Talbot's shoulder with his elbow. "You're just jealous that she didn't like you."

"Didn't I tell you how she sobbed when she broke it off with me? Seemed absolutely beside herself with the tragedy of committing herself to you."

John waved off Talbot's final comments and climbed into the back of car. "Ms. Smith's offices on the docks please Branson, as quickly as you can."

The drive through the city had John picking at his gloves, working and reworking phrases through his head until he was sure that he muddled them all and whatever came from his mouth int that moment would be a jumbled mess. John closed his eyes, leaning back to try and ease his thoughts enough to distill his intentions down to the basic truths. Nothing flowery or elegant but heartfelt and sincere. Those things that meant more to him than all the eloquence every boarding school tried to instill in him.

Branson opening his door signaled John's departure from the car and he gathered his breath to enter the building. A woman with angled features and a kind smile greeted him at the door and John removed his glove to shake her hand. "Ms. Baxter, it's a pleasure to see you again."

"The pleasure's all mine, I assure you." She smiled at him, "Your man, the advisor and assessor from the Navy's been and they want to increase our production capabilities tenfold by the end of next year."

"If it weren't for the cause of war I'd express a bit more gratitude for it."

Ms. Baxter's face knotted a moment before she leaned in, "He's recommended a man, calls him Blake, for a special project. Says he's going to contact our chief engineer and designer about plans for the next stage in naval warfare."

John nodded, "I've seen the papers come across my desk. But trust me, Blake's a good man. A bit difficult at first because he's brilliant but you can trust he'll respect your business and your engineer."

"Mr. Moseley's not always the best person for new people."

"I can promise that Blake'll put him right at ease." John pointed toward the raised offices lining the side of the building. "Is Ms. Smith in her office?"

"She was going to work from her home today but came in around noon. Said the quiet needed dispelling." Ms. Baxter shrugged, "I guess it's difficult to be away from everything when the gears of war are grinding with such an unforgiving pace."

"I'll say." John nodded at her, removing his hat to ascend the stairs. He slowed his steps just outside Anna's office and, after crunching the side of his hat for a second, forced a deep breath just as he raised his knuckles to the door.

The rap of his knock was met with a level "come in" and John opened the door to see Anna frowning over some schematics. She looked up as he closed the door and the smile that took over her face eased any worries still floating around John's heart. Her hand motioned to the seat in front of her desk and, after leaving his hat and coat on the stand by the door, John took the offered seat.

"The Navy's set over the plans for their new warship style and I have to say," Anna turned one of the drawings over, allowing John a better look at it. "I'm not a fan of their engineer."

"You're not very happy he's coming to work with your Mr. Moseley, are you?"

Anna shrugged, "Having them hash it all out together is a good plan, and I agree with the collaborative effort, but the building of submersibles for the purpose of warfare is…"

"Dangerous?"

"Can you imagine the terror of being in a metal box, underwater, that gets hit and inevitable serves as your tomb?"

"The same could be said for ships."

"There's at least a chance someone gets off one of those." Anna folded her arms on her desk. "But I'll bet you're not here for my opinion on the schematics the Navy's been sending."

"They're not the kind of art I draw." John handed it back, meeting Anna's eyes to catch the flush in her cheeks. "Which, in a way, is what I came her to address with you, if you've the time."

"I do." Anna settled back in her chair, "Although I'll tell you that canceling the dinner my father arranged with the MacClare Shipping representatives would be a poor way to impress him. Even if you'll be painting me."

John gave a little laugh, coughing over the end of it. "I'm sure I'd much rather paint you than share another table with Lady Flintshire, but I'm not here about our possible after-business meeting engagements."

"Oh?" Anna's brow furrowed slightly and John watched her fingers interlace to rest on her lap. A moment before they did, John caught the minute touch to her abdomen. She swallowed, "And what, Mr. Bates, could possibly be more important than the growing of our business interests and your private collection?"

"Our growing personal interests."

"Ah," Anna separated her hands, holding to the arms of her chair to push herself to sit up straighter. "I guess my earlier intuition about the rather raggedy children following me about town didn't speak to my inability to place faces but to understand the scope of Mr. Talbot's intelligence service."

John cringed, "I didn't know he was having you followed."

"Oddly enough I find it a bit endearing, on his part, that he still cares enough to bother." Anna stroked her fingers along the wooden arm of her chair. "What did he tell you?"

"He told me you visited a doctor and Henry's consultation with the nurse provided him the details of your current position."

"What position does he think that is?"

"Henry's of the belief you're in the family way."

Anna nodded, "He's not wrong. And now I need to find a doctor with a nurse and secretarial staff made up entirely of men Mr. Talbot can't seduce."

"Firstly, that wouldn't stop him. Second, he'd already seduced her so it was probably more of a quid pro quo situation."

Anna gave a laugh, "I'm not as surprised as I should be that my former beau is a man about town in his engagements and entanglements." She sighed, "But now that he's told you I'll suspect you're here to 'do the right thing' and offer me your hand in marriage to save my reputation."

"I have been the one to help you tatter it." John shrugged a shoulder, "It would be the noble thing to do."

"Is it just nobility?"

"Absolutely not." John held her gaze, "I've wanted to ask for your hand in marriage for a very long time."

"Have you now?"

John nodded. "Henry made a comment earlier, when he told me about what he'd found, about me only engaging you on the minimal number of required outings before I asked for your hand and while I scoffed at him-"

"You've been counting them, haven't you?"

"I can't keep you out of my thoughts, Anna. These last two months, every day of them, I've thought about you. Every waking thought, any one I can remember from any dream, and all those moments in between."

"Must be a troubling situation for your business affairs."

"It's caused a few problems but they're nothing I wouldn't bear for this." John took a breath, "I want to marry you, Anna Smith, and give you my name."

"That's all you'd give me?"

John smiled, "You already have everything else from me. I couldn't imagine what else I could offer you that you've not already taken from me."

"You make me sound like a master thief."

"You stole my heart so I don't doubt it."

Anna smiled, using the back of her hand to cover her mouth as she snorted at him. "That was, without doubt, the worst phrase you've used with me."

"I thought it was romantic."

"For a show, sure. For real life…" Anna shook her head as she leaned forward onto her desk again. "I know that I should allow you to sweep me off my feet with your proposal but-"

"That wasn't my proposal, Ms. Smith." John stood, rounding the desk to go down on one knee next to her chair as he put a hand over hers. "When I propose to you. It won't be as a suggestion or a half-hearted plea. It'll be direct, sincere, and personal. It'll be all those things I want our marriage to be."

"Is this your proposal, now?"

John shook his head. "I've not got you a ring yet and I insist on having something to slide over your delicate fingers when I ask you to be my bride."

"You've given this a lot of thought."

"Which," John kissed her hand and stood. "I hope tells you that this isn't just the nobility of realizing we're already going to have a child."

"I should tell you then," Anna wrapped her fingers around his, pulling at his hand with them in a kind of petting attitude. "That the doctor did say there was a chance he was wrong. It could be that I'm not pregnant at all."

John nodded, glancing toward the door before removing his hand from Anna's grasp. The little sound she made changed from one hinting sadness to excitement with a breath as John flicked the lock on the door. His return to her had him drawing the shades on the office to leave it in a dusky darkness as he returned to her chair. His hands took hers, kissing over her fingers as he knelt before her chair. "Then we'll just have to make sure."

Anna leaned forward, moving her hands from his grip to frame over his jaw, "And what, Mr. Bates, would you do to make sure that I'm carrying your child?"

"Our child." John's hands drifted to her legs, running down the material of her skirt to her knees to slowly roll it there and expose her skin to him. "To ensure you're carrying _our_ child."

"Alright," Anna rolled her eyes, giggling slightly when John leaned his forearms into her chair to push her skirt up to her hips and leave her slip and knickers exposed to him. "What will you do to ensure I'm carrying our child?"

"Persistent effort." John's fingers trapped the material of the skirt between Anna's body and the back of the chair before hooking them under the line of her knickers and dragging them down to her ankles. He lifted her feet to remove her knickers and folded them carefully into his pocket. "I find that practice makes perfect in cases like these and I once heard a lecture from a statistician from Oxford claiming that probability of action increases in proportion to performance."

"There's never been anything wrong with your performance." Anna sighed, her hands gripping to the arms of her chair as John kissed the insides of her exposed leg while pushing her slip out of the way. "Hence our current predicament."

"Hence our predicament." John agreed, his hands forming around Anna's bare ass to slip her into a slant that left her open legs around his torso and her folds closer to his mouth. "Not a predicament you're trying to escape, I hope."

"Why, when it's such beautiful torture?" Anna purred and let out a small gasp when John's kisses graced just above her nerves. "I'd prefer if you did hurry. I have a business to run here and if the door's locked too long…"

"Yes, decorum." John hummed against her skin, his fingers opening her slowly to press just slightly into her. He did not work deeper, keeping right at the edge so the two fingers not occupied shallowly inside her could run along the outside of her folds. She whimpered and John's thumb pressed on her clit to flick there while her hips twisted. "But I was under the impression you weren't all that bothered by the condition of your reputation."

"I am about my professionalism." Anna gritted her teeth and John only grinned as he lowered his lips to suck lightly on her clit.

Her knees tightened on his shoulders and John slipped under one to open Anna further so his fingers could finally skate deeper inside her. She moaned above him, the vibration working through her body to ripple the muscles he stroked along until they clenched and released with increasing frequency. A frequency John matched with the depth and duration of the sucking kisses he left over her clit until Anna shattered around him and left his fingers running with her.

Fingers he sucked into his mouth before rising off his knees. His hands settled on Anna's hips and shifted her to the edge of her large desk so her legs could spread around his hips. Anna's fingers, even with her eyes still dazed with the aftermath of the orgasm, fumbled efficiently with his trousers and opened them so her hands could release him from the confines of clothing that kept his arousal hidden. And with a few deft strokes of her own, Anna held to his shoulders and lifted her hips to meet John's sudden thrust into her.

The shift of his hand from her hips to her ass allowed his fingers to knead the skin there, digging into her flesh as he lifted her to meet the depth of his thrusts that sent Anna's neck arching back. John focused his kissed on her neck, unwilling to kiss her and risk mussing her carefully applied makeup. And his fingers dug bruises into the skin of her ass as he drove forward to stop himself trying to massage her breasts through her corset and blouse or run through her hair. Instead he focused on leaving light, barely-there kisses on her neck as Anna's nails raked over his shoulders and into his hair as he worked harder inside her.

"Why won't you kiss me John?" She almost whined into his ear and John paused his motions as the temptation to ravage her mouth raised it head. But he only buried his response under the collar of her shirt and nipped at her skin as he plunged as far as he could go into her and held there.

"If I kiss you, I won't stop. Then everyone here will know what we've done and I don't want to risk your professionalism." He dragged his teeth over her earlobe. "But I want to. I want to kiss you as deeply as I enter you. I want to leave you begging for my kisses as you're begging for me to continue pressing into you. I want to kiss you so my tongue can remember that your mouth is just as warm and wet as the treasure between your legs. But that you're only as swelteringly tight and beautifully wet there when I'm skin-to-skin with you."

Anna's nails dug into the skin at the back of John's neck as her knees dug into his hips. She pulled his head from her neck and held him one handed as the other snuck between their bodies. When John tried to stay watching her face, Anna tilted his head down to watch them as they came together. To watch her fingers work over herself until her voice caught. Then John had to tear himself away, depending on the friction of her hand between their dove-tailed bodies as he watched her face crumple in ecstasy. Ecstasy he hoped reflected on his face when he followed her with a groan into her shoulder a second later.

He left a kiss there, his body quivering and jerking through the final throes of his climax until he could draw back from Anna. Her knickers came from his pocket and he used them to wipe between her legs. But Anna caught his wrist and removed the knickers from him before putting a hand on his shoulder. John could not even react before she pushed him back into her chair.

Almost stumbling, his trousers sliding to his knees with his pants, John landed hard in the chair as Anna knelt between his legs. When he went to speak she pressed a finger to his lips and took the knickers from his hand to place on the desk behind her before lowering her mouth over him. John grappled with the arms of the chair, holding tightly there as Anna hollowed her cheeks to take him deeper before using her tongue to wipe him clean.

Or, continue to arouse him. The work of her mouth did not stop as her nails left crescent-shaped divots in his thighs and John's hips bucked of their own accord as he could only whimper and moan at her assault. She sucked hard, leaving his hands gripping at the arms of her chair with enough force to leave indentations in his skin, and pulled back to lick her lips. John almost choked at her reaction.

"Practice makes permanent, John." Anna lifted her slip and skirt, using a knee on one side of his leg and then settling herself just over him. "Take care not to muss me too much."

Her leering grin had John's hips jerking until she sank down onto him. They paused, Anna grinding down to dig her knees into the space between his legs and the arms of the chair. John's hands settled on her thighs, gliding over her legs to hold at her hips, and watched as Anna rested her hands on his shoulders.

"Are you ready?" John nodded, his mouth completely dry. "Then I'll begin."

Given the restrictions of the chair, Anna's motions rocked onto her knees before rolling to try and gain the motion that would create the friction her expression begged John to held her find. With one hand on her hip, helping provide a point of contact for her movements, John worked his fingers between her legs to help stroke her as Anna gyrated her hips to send John deeper. Using his fingers to provide a fulcrum, John shifted forward to bring them even closer together and allow him access to her neck again.

The dig of her nails in his shoulders, the cling of her walls around him, and her breathing huffing and hot against his ear forced John's heels to the ground to thrust harder and deeper into Anna. It sent a groan through her and every muscle in her body tightened to tug John over the edge. His drives took on a frenzied pace, leaving him completely uncoordinated as he tried to bring her with him.

But she accomplished it on her own. Using his fingers till trapped against her and the final stutters of his body, Anna came with a sharp cry into John's ear before her teeth bit on his lobe. He growled into her shoulder and they sighed together through the final trembles of their bodies.

John brought up his head, his finger carefully resituating the loose hairs that curled around her forehead. He kissed the area carefully, licking out to catch the drops of sweat as Anna dug into his pocket to retrieve his handkerchief there. She pulled back, wiping over her forehead and face before pulling back off the chair.

Anna tottered slightly but put her hand on John's shoulder to stop him getting up to help her. The smile on her face matched the glint in her eyes when she pulled her knickers off her desk and wiped them between her legs before using them on John. With a shuffle her slip and skirt fell down to her ankles again and she wrapped her knickers to tuck them into John's pocket.

"For you."

John groaned, his head knocking back against the chair. "You'll kill me before I can marry you, Ms. Smith."

"Just as long as you don't die before dinner." Anna's hand swept over his forehead before pulling back. "It's at my house and my cook's put her best foot forward with some Scottish fare."

"May all the Saints preserve us." John pushed himself from the chair, bending down to bring his trousers and pants up to restore his appearance. "I never liked Scottish food and I always detested trips to my Scottish grandparents' house. Haggis. Haggis until I threw up at the dinner table."

"I'll make sure it's not on your menu." Anna patted his cheek, checking over him. "You appear capable to step out into the street."

"And you…" John checked over her. "Don't look thoroughly ravished enough."

"You'll have another chance, I'm sure." Anna leaned forward, "If you promise not to try and devour me, you can have a single kiss."

John smiled and gently tapped his lips against hers. "Again, not enough."

"And, again, later." Anna nodded toward the door. "Don't be late for dinner."

"I wouldn't dare." John winked at her, "I've never been inside your house. Only on the street where you live."

"You've been to my door." Anna tugged on his lapels. "But now you'll get to come through the door."

"I'm looking forward to it." John kissed lightly on her cheek and rounded her desk to retrieve his hat and coat. "And, about the engineer, I think you'll like him."

"I hope so." Anna tapped the schematics, "I'll never enter one of these things but I'll build whatever gets our boys home faster."

"Another reason to love you." John opened his mouth and then stopped.

"What?"

"We'll discuss it later." John nodded at her, "I'll be there on time."


	12. Paint the Roses Red

Anna lifted her head for Gwen to finish the touch-ups on her dress. "You're here often enough for me to hire you as my ladies' maid."

"No offense, but I'll never do it." Gwen looked her over, "I like the choice of red. You look amazing in midnight blue, don't mistake me, but this wine red is bringing out every one of your qualities."

"As I'm sure the black underthings you've provided for the evening will do for me as well." Anna winked at her. "Thank you for those the last time, by the way. They worked exactly as you intended."

"Good." Gwen smiled, "I've been hoping to make you some wedding things but you've not made that decision yet so…"

"When I do, you'll provide the trousseau." Anna bent to check herself in the mirror over her vanity. "Otherwise I'll have to present myself as I am."

"You say that like he doesn't already like you."

"Lord Rothschild is not the concern for the evening." Anna managed a small smile at Gwen's wink. "It's the MacClares. Especially Lady Flintshire, she's a battle-axe and make no mistake."

"I've never had to dress her so I'll consider myself lucky." Gwen looked over the dresses hanging in Anna's wardrobe. "If you do marry Lord Rothschild, could you please hire me to give you a wardrobe befitting a Baroness?"

"What's wrong with my current wardrobe?"

"It's professional and for a woman of means. You need a wardrobe that speaks to embarrassing wealth and opulence."

"Disgusting."

"Necessary." Gwen raised a finger, "If manners maketh the man then the clothing maketh the woman."

"Sounds rather expensive."

"A woman's got to make a living." Gwen closed the wardrobe, pointing at Anna as she gathered her bag. "Remember, if you're getting married then I'll be involved in all the steps. The dress for your engagement announcement, the ball you'll have to throw, the wedding dress, the underthings, the dress for the ball for your wedding, and the night of your wedding."

Anna sighed, "The moment you say it like that I just want to elope."

"Don't you dare rob me of all the money I'd make on your wedding." Gwen took Anna's shoulders and kissed both her cheeks. "And please, do let me know how the red set goes over this evening… After the dress for the party absolutely succeeds in helping you gain a new contract."

"If it does, then I'll see your designs for all the impossible dresses you'll make for my possible wedding." Anna held up a warning finger, "But don't be getting any ideas. There's not even a proposal."

"Even with you already in the family way?" Gwen pushed Anna's dropped jaw back into place. "I take your measurements dear. I know when you're not as slim as you once were and, based on where I'm making adjustments, I can guess why."

"You'll not tell anyone, will you?"

Gwen made a face, "I'm not a fool."

"I just-"

"I do understand." Gwen put a hand on Anna's shoulder. "A lady's reputation is a far more delicate thing."

A bell rang in the house and Anna pushed her palms against her dress before passing a smile to Gwen and leaving her room. She descended the stairs as the footman opened the door to admit John. Anna paused on the stairs, just out of his room as he handed his hat and coat to the footman. But the moment he came into view, Anna descended to watch the glow in John's eyes match the drop of his jaw.

"I'll take that as a sincere compliment." Anna gave over her hand and shivered when John's lips touched the glove. "Gwen thought red for the evening."

"You do appear as if you're ready for battle." The dart of John's tongue over his lips raised Anna's temperature and forced her to breathe past a constriction in her throat. "And possibly a promise for later."

"You'll have to wait and see." Anna drew her hand back. "Our guests have arrived and we should greet them."

They both turned to greet the guests coming through the door, John holding Anna's arm at a respectful distance as they posed like the leaders of business they were for the evening. But Anna gripped harder at John's arm when she noticed an unexpected third member to the party. Trailing behind the balding man with an impressively white beard and the pinch-faced woman with him, was Green. He smiled as he handed over his coat to the confused footman.

Ignoring the confusion from John in the corner of her eye, Anna nodded toward the footman and he took Green's coat with the others so the trio could approach. She held herself higher, loosening her hold on John's arm as he unconsciously stepped closer to her, and swallowed to force a smile as they formed an odd circle. "So good of you to come tonight, Lord and Lady Flintshire. My business partner and I are honored to host you and even more honored that you agreed to even meet with us."

"We're honored that Lord Rothschild deigned to notice our company even existed." Lord Flintshire extended his hand to Anna, kissing hers before taking John's. "We didn't realize we merited the attentions of a Rothschild."

"I've found that Lord Rothschild is not at all what one might expect from the upper echelons of society." Anna offered a genuine smile to him. "He noticed my company and we've grown in a very short time thanks to his patronage."

"Ms. Smith is far too modest about the capabilities of her company." John kissed Lady Flintshire's hand and Anna noticed how he winced when Green gripped his hand with unnecessary force. "It's more me on her coattails than she on mine."

"I'm sure someone's hanging on to someone." Green muttered and Anna reluctantly extended her hand as stiffly as possible. "I'm just not sure that coattails are involved in the process."

"I'm sure English idioms and expressions aren't lost on you, sir." John cut in, narrowing his eyes when Anna had to jerk her hand to get it from Green's grip. "The business we run only works because we're working it together."

"I'm sure you're working very closely together." Green lowered his voice as he leaned toward them. "Skin to skin, perhaps?"

Anna's jaw tightened, "We'll go through to the sitting room."

The group shuffled into the sitting room and Anna met Mrs. Hughes's eyes in the corner. Her eyes widened and the blanche of her features had Anna offering the subtlest of nods to stop her reacting. When the other woman's jaw tightened, she ducked from the room to leave Anna to her own devices.

Anna ushered them all to the sofas and chairs. "Please, be seated. I'd hate for us all to stand on ceremony as if we're strangers."

"Not all of us know one another as well as others." Green took a seat near Lady Flintshire as Lord Flintshire took a sofa with John. "I'm sure we could use to be better acquainted."

"In terms of the business we're conducting, the risk is always that familiarity breeds contempt." Lady Flintshire sniffed, "You've a small household, Ms. Smith."

"I was raised in frugal circumstances, Lady Flintshire. My father grew his business from the ground up and so I've always believed in the preservation of one's money to protect it for a rainier day."

"That's right." Lady Flintshire nodded, "I wonder how difficult it is for those who have to rise from the bottom to succeed."

Anna forced a smile, shuffling in her seat as John spoke. "I've found it's harder to be one who's had and then loses. Adaptation never works quite the same way when one has to learn to downsize."

Lady Flintshire's mouth pursed but Lord Flintshire spoke first. "It's the risk. I think the frugal living that those who build with their own hands develop should be taught to those who are too comfortable with their positions. The money's never endless and one generation of unwise stewardship ends it in a snap."

"Exactly why Smith Shipping wants to extend our reach and work with MacClare North Sea Shipping." Anna took John's nod to continue. "We're hoping to find ways around the inevitable blockades the Germans will attempt in the Channel. With your help we keep shipping lines open and we expand the reach of the British Empire through your aid."

"And would your acquisition of our company mean we benefit from the arrangement you've already managed to snare from the British Government?" Lady Flintshire's eyebrows rose, pulling her already pursed lips to further pinch her face. "They're using your resources to build ore ships and we could certainly benefit from more business in the north."

"It would be at the whim of the Home Office and the War Office but I can't see them refusing the chance to use the ports of Inverness and Aberdeen to better combat the growing German threat." John directed his next comments to Lord Flintshire. "At the moment they've assigned an engineer to work on a special project with the engineers at Smith Shipping that will offer a better fight to the Germans in terms of naval warfare."

"Is that secret the kind of thing Ms. Smith could gain through private office meetings with her shades drawn and her door locked?" Green finally entered the conversation and Anna barely lifted her hand to stop John moving from his seat.

"I'm sure, Mr. Green, if you'd had the chance to meet with an engineer assigned to work with your company at the command of His Majesty, you'd make sure nothing got out."

"Do you spread the plans the way you-"

"Mr. Green," John interrupted him, Anna noting the curling of his fingers toward his palm until his knuckles whitened in the fist he formed on his thigh. "We're here to discuss business. If you are only here to snipe comments at Ms. Smith, I don't believe there's a benefit to your presence."

The two men stared one another down until the door opened again and Mrs. Hughes entered. Her fingers quirked slightly and Anna stood. "Excuse me a moment, please. This is probably about dinner."

She crossed the room in a moment, weaving between the seats, and urged Mrs. Hughes closer to the corner. "What do you know about why that man's sitting on my sofa and making comments about my virtue?"

"According to the footman, and the lovely Irish driver who referred me to a phone number of a man who's been following you," Anna shut her eyes and shook her head at Mrs. Hughes's confusion. "I'll guess you knew someone was following you already."

"I was recently made aware that Mr. Talbot's taken an intense interest in my welfare to the point of having me followed." Anna sighed and opened her eyes, staring at the ceiling a moment before looking back at Mrs. Hughes. "What did they tell you about all this?"

"Apparently the day that the Princess of Bavaria was here, she didn't leave as swiftly as we assumed after you spoke with her."

"Because all I need is for a Princess to have a problem with me."

Mrs. Hughes shrugged, "According to the footman, and whatever street urchins your Mr. Talbot assigned to follow them, the Princess and Mr. Green interacted. I'm not sure what they said but Mr. Talbot has it on good authority that through their introductions Mr. Green found himself employed by MacClare North Sea Shipping."

"How?"

"The Princess and Lady Flintshire appear to be more than just casual acquaintances, by all accounts."

"And this is how the Princess of Bavaria takes her revenge and ruins my evening?" Anna jerked her head slightly toward Green. "By putting that man in my sitting room as a guest of people I need to expand my shipping interests?"

"Better than having her here."

Anna nodded, resigned, "Is there anything else?"

"It's all I could scrounge from the sources available to me on short notice but, for the moment, we'll have to accept that the detestable Mr. Green is the business manager of MacClare North Sea Shipping."

"And we'll see what we can do about that." Anna took a deep breath and rolled back her shoulders. "Make sure Cook is at her best tonight. I need the courses prompt and excellent. We can't have any reason to delay them here. Not with him in their company."

"Then it's good news that dinner's ready."

"Thank you Mrs. Hughes." Anna waited the woman out of the room before clapping her hands together and speaking to her guests. "Dinner is served and we can go through now."

"I'm sure you've outdone yourself with the fare."

Anna went to respond to Lord Flintshire but Lad Flintshire interrupted. "As long as it's not haggis. That would be as bad as the Scotsman that plays the bagpipes outside Duneagle every day."

"Haggis, at the request of Lord Rothschild, was not on the menu." Anna risked a small smile to John as he pulled back her chair so she could sit next to Lord Flintshire after he replicated the motion for his wife. "His Scottish grandparents forced it on him as a child and he refused to come if I served it."

"Then you've not had the experience?" Lord Flintshire leaned toward Anna and she shook her head. "It's one that, while miserable, should be had."

"Experience for the sake of experience, Lord Flintshire, isn't the kind of mentality that's much guided my life."

"Please, Ms. Smith," He shook his head, "Call me Shrimpie. It's too much of a mouthful to keep using our titles."

"Then I'll insist you call me Anna." She spread her napkin on her lap. "If we do go into business together, I'll hope we'll not be better strangers."

"The efficacy of the merger is still in question." Green drew their attention to his end of the table. "Smith Shipping's current load is entirely dictated by the British Empire but after the war is won, then what?"

"I'm sure you're not ignorant of the fact we shipped before the war demanded we help make naval vessels." Anna leaned back so the serving girl could put the plat before her. "We'll expand, with our resources, when that happens and return to what we did before. Perhaps with better workers and interests. But the future's not dark for us because we existed before the war."

"And if you can't keep up with demand?"

"Smith Shipping survived through frugal spending and intelligent business choices." John said from Lady Flintshire's side, directing a barely concealed scowl at Green. "Given that Ms. Smith is her father's daughter, she's taken the same approach. I wouldn't have invested in an interest I believed would self-implode."

"And if it combusts?"

"Better than going out with a whimper, I think." John shrugged slightly, sipping at his soup. "Much like the Government's decided that it's their duty to give all they have to this war."

"Does that mean you'll give yourself to the war, Lord Rothschild?" Anna looked at John, noticing the pause in his motions. "As a half-Austrian I'd expect that it's difficult for you to live the reality of your two warring sides."

John put down his spoon, fully facing Green. "I've already committed to serving with the British Army under the command of Lord Grantham. I'm sure you're aware that he and I served together in China."

"I'd heard rumors." Green ducked his head to his food but stuttered with his spoon when John continued speaking.

"And you, Mr. Green? Have you committed yourself to the effort? The Army could always use strong, young men like yourself."

"Instead of old cripples like yourself?"

"It's not hindered me." John nodded at Green, "So, when can we expect news of your enlistment?"

"Yes," Lord Flintshire joined John. "When are you enlisting Alex?"

Green swallowed hard, "I guess I hadn't thought about it. I'll have to measure the pros and cons of the decision."

"Surely service and patriotism are important to you." John raised an eyebrow. "Wouldn't that mean you'd want to volunteer as soon as possible?"

Green's face took on a dangerous angle, "I'm sure I could manage to find myself a friend, like yours, who would provide me a comfortable commission in an office where I'll never see fighting."

"Then you misunderstand." John sat straighter, "Lord Grantham's leading the Yorkshire Fusiliers and they'll be in France, on the field. I'm sure that's the furthest from comfortable I could manage."

Green only glowered into his soup. The hint of a satisfied smirk on John's face faded when his eyes met Anna's. She swallowed and forced herself to eat, barely tasting the food or participating in the conversation. In fact it was not until they could finally dismiss the MacClares and Green, with a promise for the papers to draw up the next day, that Anna finally managed to speak.

John put a hand on her shoulder but she shook her head and motioned him into the library. Once the door locked, Anna leaned on it and looked at him. "You didn't tell me. You were in my office this afternoon and you didn't tell me."

"I didn't agree until after I left your office."

"This wasn't a decision you made on a whim, John." Anna put her hand to her forehead, "You almost proposed to me this afternoon and you wouldn't tell me you were thinking about accepting an offer to go to war?"

"I had to."

"Not tell me?"

"Go." John took a breath, "I can't just sit by and pretend I'm not under scrutiny because of my name and my heritage."

"You've already served."

"I served in the boxer Rebellion where the interests of Austria were represented. This…"

"Is a chance to gain some respect?"

"No." John crossed the distance between them, taking Anna's hands with hers. "It's a way to prove I'm loyal to this government and to help protect my friend."

"You're doing this for Robert Crawley?"

John's gaze focused on Anna's hands, his fingers tracing slowly over her skin. "He'll need me on the field. He'll need someone to set him straight and keep him focused. Someone who'll watch his back while he watches the backs of his men." He finally raised his eyes to meet hers. "Who better than me?"

Anna squeezed his hands, blinking at the threat of tears in her eyes. "And you'd forget that I need you?"

"Never." John kissed over her hands, bringing them closer together. "I couldn't forget you if I tried and I don't want to try. I'll come back to you."

Anna shook her head. "Don't promise that."

"Why not?"

"Because you can't promise that." Anna slipped her hands free from his grip, "You shouldn't try to promise me things you can't guarantee."

"But I will." John crowded her next to the door.

"You can't."

"I will." John repeated. "From now until I draw my last breath I'll promise to come back to you."

Anna put her hands on his chest, her fingers curling into the lapels of his jacket, and put her forehead on his shirt. It crinkled with stiffness under her but anna held there until John's hands soothed over her back. Her fingers relaxed but did not release him as the tears dripped down her cheeks to spread wet patches over his shirt.

"I'll come back to you."

She lifted herself away from his chest, blinking away the last of her tears. "Take me to bed John."

He took her gloved hands and kissed over them. "You'll have to show me where I'm supposed to take you."

Anna gave a tiny laugh, "Follow me."

They went quietly up the stairs, Anna's skirt whispering over the carpeted stairs until they reached the second floor. The doors fell away until Anna opened the one to her room. But when the doors opened her jaw dropped.

"I wanted to surprise you." John kissed at her hand, pivoting around her to walk to the large paper-wrapped object leaning on her vanity. "Mrs. Hughes helped me sneak it into your house."

"What is it?"

John held her hands and pulled her to the paper. "Find out for yourself."

His fingers carefully pulled hers free from the gloves to leave them on the vanity behind him as Anna peeled back the folded paper to expose the canvas. Dark colors betrayed nothing at first until Anna noticed the silhouettes and shadows of two people moving together in the darkness. A deep maroon marked lines against the black and the lighter blues betraying the nighttime element of the painting. But, prominent as it caught the painting's reflection from the light in the part of the frame lit by the moon, was a diamond ring. It adorned the hand of the figure in a dominant position as they held the hands of their conquest to the bed.

Anna put her hand over her mouth, the fingers of her other hand flexing slightly as if they ached to touch the painting. And she did, dragging her fingers across the ridges and lines of the paint toward the ring. It did not move like the rest of the painting. She gasped when she realized the ring she saw hung over the painted version with a string that John used to draw it up to his hand.

He took a knee before her, holding the ring in his hand. "This was my grandmother's. She always wished my mother could wear it but other decisions kept it safe for me to give to you."

"John," Anna sighed, both of her hands fluttering over her mouth before clutching at one another as they pressed to her chest as if she might slow the fierce beat of her heart. "This is beautiful."

"It's yours." John nodded back at the painting. "That as well, by the way."

"Is it us?"

"It might be." John winked at her, still holding the ring. "Anna May Smith, will you do me the extraordinary pleasure of agreeing to be my wife?"

"Yes."

John smiled and slid the ring over her extended finger. "Then, please wear this ring while I try to replicate the actions in that painting."

"Perhaps," Anna dragged her tongue over her lower lip, "I'd like to suggest something else first?"

"What?" John got to his feet as Anna stepped out of his reach.

"If there's hay to be made, better not to waste the chance to use it." Anna put her hands behind her dress and carefully peeled the buttons from their fastenings on the dress. It peeled away from her skin and Anna left it draped over the chair to watch John's jaw fall open at the sight of her lingerie that matched the deep red of the dress. "Another of Gwen's contributions."

"I will stand at the bar of God to commend that woman through the Gates of Saint Peter." John moved toward Anna, his hands ghosting over her skin to trace the lines of the lingerie. "I almost don't want to remove them."

"You might need to."

"But not yet." John went to his knees before her, his lips immediately replicating his hands earlier skim of her skin. "For now, just feel."

Anna shivered, her fingers digging into John's hair as he kissed and touched over her body. His mouth left hot patches over her skin as he moved lower and Anna's nails clawed into his scalp when his kisses mouthed between her legs through the fabric of her knickers. She twisted and writhed against his mouth until John slotted himself sideways between her legs and supported her with his shoulder under her as his tongue dragged over the material.

Until he wanted to taste more of her and pulled her knickers aside. Anna's knees quivered and almost gave way when John's tongue pressed into her while his fingers touched over her nerves to leave her trembling above him and seeking whatever support he could offer her. The support he gave her until Anna came with a cry of his name in the dark room.

He pulled back, dragging her knickers down her legs, and stood before her. Anna's fingers fumbled with his shirt and jacket, tugging his tie free between the kisses she desperately dragged from his mouth. Working together, distracted though they were with trying to touch the other as much as they could, Anna finally exposed John to her eyes and her fingers. His sighs and moans at her actions had Anna clinging tighter to her.

But in a second he lifted her, his hands on her ass and thighs, to press her back to the wall next to her door. She thudded there, the motion pausing them both until Anna's hands seized at John's neck and jaw to bring their lips together again. Their tongues fought and tangled as John spread Anna's legs around his hips so he could run along her dripping seam. The seam his efforts left wet enough to enter her in a second so they both groaned at the tight sensation rippling between them.

"Mrs. Bates," John muttered into her ear and Anna's fingers clung to John's shoulders and skin, dragging to find a position to hold better to him. "That'll be your name within a week."

"A week?" John only hummed the response into her neck as he started thrusting into her, drawing almost entirely out of her before driving forward again. "So quickly?"

"I've got a friend in the Church who signed a special license."

"Mr. Bates," Anna's teeth nipped at John's ear, her legs clinching at John's hips so her ankles could lock beneath his ass as her fingers grabbed it to keep him closer. He grunted, the pounding motion that slapped her back against the wall and rutted their hips together leaving no other sounds in the room. "You've planned ahead."

"Yes." John paused, drawing back to get Anna's attention. He grit his teeth when she tried to urge him forward with her nails in the flesh of his ass and her vaginal walls undulating about him but John held steady. "Because I need to marry you. No matter what anyone will say or what they may think, I'll not go another week without making you my wife."

"Because of the baby?"

John shook his head, "Because you'll be my next of kin."

"John," Anna tried to turn away but his gentle hand on her cheek kept her in place while his hips shunted shallowly into her to keep her attention. "We can't-"

"No, you were right earlier. I was unfair to you, assuming I'll come home without a scratch. And, when that does happen, I'll not have you on the sidelines without the right to be kept informed." John's hand settled on Anna's abdomen. "And I won't sit on the sidelines either. I'll not father a bastard but I'll also not allow a child of mine to grow up not bearing my name."

Anna's free hand held to John's face, "I want your name."

"Then it's a good thing I'm giving it to the both of you." John thrust deep, grinding against Anna until she cried. "But first, I'm going to ravish you here. Then I'll take you to that bed and continue my seduction until you're nothing but mine."

"Then you're a fool." Anna kept John still, "Because I'm already yours."

They did not stop moving until they both came with cries and pleas of the other's name.


	13. Get Me to the Church on Time

John kept Anna against the wall until her legs stopped quivering and shuddering around his hips. When they loosened he helped her to the floor, his hands following her progress until they stopped on her corset. She smiled at him and her fingers traced over his chest, giggling until John looked down and noticed the indentations in his skin from her corset.

"I think Gwen's efforts are getting far too good if she can bring you to ravish me without even removing all of her gifts." Anna went to pull the laces of her corset but John stopped her, his fingers moving slowly to bring the laces out of the corset until it dangled on her shoulders. In a second, John dropped the piece to the floor to leave her just as naked as him.

"If I ever meet Ms. Dawson, I'll offer to pay for her wedding and whatever honeymoon she hopes to have with whatever man inspires her dedication to her craft and my unfettered enjoyment of it." John paused, licking over his lips. "I might even fund her desires to continue this into an actual business."

"She'll be very grateful." Anna paused, mimicking his earlier motion. "And what are you planning on doing now?"

"I'm going to continue ravishing you." John lifted Anna, his arm swinging under her legs to leave her squealing until he laid her on the bed. "Just in a more comfortable position."

"This bed's not as big or as nice as yours."

John shrugged, moving over Anna. "It's large enough for what I hope and plan to do to you, Ms. Smith."

Anna put her hand to John's face, her fingers lightly caressing over his cheek, and he turned to kiss her palm. She smiled as the metal of the ring newly on her finger ran over his skin. "Not for much longer."

"Then," John bent his head, kissing slowly over her neck, "Would you prefer me to call you 'Mrs. Bates' for the rest of the evening?"

"Please." Anna moaned under him and John let out a small sigh into her skin.

"Do you want to live out a lovely fantasy where you're the woman of the house, bearing my name, and carrying our baby?"

"I'm already doing the last part." Anna's fingers ruffled his hair as they moved slowly to reflect the easy pace of John's kisses over her skin.

"Then I guess we won't have to pretend for very long." John grinned against her skin, moving lower to her breasts to lather them with kisses.

"Don't tease me Mr. Bates."

"Never," John moved to her abdomen. "I'm not so cruel, Mrs. Bates."

He moved between her legs, spreading them so he could continue his trail of kisses. Kisses he used to leave her writhing above and around him. Anna's fingers dug into his scalp, holding tightly to him before using her grip to guide his progress. And John followed every piece of instruction she offered until Anna's fingers finally relaxed on his head. With a few final licks, sucking gently to bring Anna back down, John brought himself back up to kiss back toward Anna's breasts.

"Tell me, Mrs. Bates, what else could I do for you?" John licked and sucked on her breasts until Anna urged him to kiss her.

"Just take me John. Please."

"My pleasure Mrs. Bates." John aligned himself and thrust forward to bring Anna's hands to his shoulders and her nails digging new marks into his shoulders.

His hands and lips could not stop moving over her while Anna did not stop moving under him. Each rake of her nails over his shoulders and back increased John's speed as if they worked in perpetual motion. Every motion that left them struggling closer together until Anna tightened around John. They held to one another until John followed her over the edge.

Settling together, John rotated them onto their sides. Anna still held to him, her grip easing to gentle strokes over his skin until she finally released. Their bodies uncurled from one another and John grabbed Anna's left hand to kiss near her ring.

"Was it everything you imagined," He paused, leering over her hand before sucking slightly on her skin. "Mrs. Bates?"

"I think so." Anna propped her head up on her hand, "Do you truly have to go and serve with Lord Grantham?"

"I can't back out now."

"Not when you're engaged?" Anna waved her hand in front of his face and snatched it away before he could catch her. "He might accept the excuse."

"And how many other men will make the same excuse?"

"I don't care about the other men."

"But I do." John used the tips of his fingers to brush over Anna's hair. "I care that I can do something and if I sit here…"

"Building better ships, those infernal submersibles, and everything else to make our armaments better than the Germans?"

John smiled at her, "I trust you to do those things. I trust Henry to invest my money in smart ways and places to not only help those ends but also contribute to keeping you safe. But… This is something that, for better or worse, I am good at."

"Not usually a resounding compliment."

"No, but if everyone's got a bit of monster inside them, might as well point it toward the enemy and step back."

Anna let her hand settle on John's chest, "You're no monster."

"You only say that because I know how to bring you indescribable pleasure."

"I would suggest, Mr. Bates," Anna pushed at John's shoulder, ignoring the gentle bounce on the mattress as she settled over him. "Not to be so cocky."

"You happen to like me when I'm that way."

"But you're not supposed to know that." Anna leaned over him, kissing his forehead and then his lips. "There is, however, something you should know."

"What?" John laughed, bending forward to kiss her abdomen. "You've already told me you're carrying our child. Isn't that enough for me to know?"

"Not yet." Anna held up her left hand, palm towards herself so the diamond in the ring caught the light. "This isn't enough."

John paused, "I'm sorry?"

"This isn't enough." Anna turned her hand so the fingers of her right hand could twist the ring. "This won't force anyone to tell me anything. It won't give me control of your assets if you die. It won't let me know if you've died. It won't let me give our child your name. This isn't enough John."

He sat up, holding Anna to him. "It's a promise Anna. Surely you-"

She put her hand over his mouth, the metal of the ring pressing into his lips. "I trust you, John. I trust you'll marry me and make an honest woman of me and all of the beautiful dreams that fools like us have about love and life." Her hand moved away from his mouth. "But it's not enough."

"What would be enough, Anna?"

She teethed her lip for a moment. "I'm going to suggest something that you may not like but you're going to do it, no matter what."

"Anna?" John narrowed his eyes, "What've you planned?"

"We're going to get married."

John gaped at her, "You'd have me make you a widow as soon as I've made you my wife?"

"I thought you promised you'd come back to me."

"The guarantee of me dying is marrying you as if we lived in the American back country and your father held a shotgun to my head."

"Then be glad my father lives in Liverpool and he doesn't know what we've already been doing." Anna dragged her finger down John's chest. "Because then you wouldn't have to worry about the idea of a shotgun. You'd already be dead."

"Comforting."

"I'm serious." Anna put a hand to his face. "We've already tested the waters and they don't look inviting John. If we delay then I'll bear a bastard, lose everything, and live in penury until I perish."

"And if we get married quickly then we'll arouse suspicion."

"Am I not strong enough for the suspicion we've already aroused?"

"I didn't mean-"

"I've faced down your almost-fiancé and a man who tried to blackmail me for my virtue." Anna held John's gaze. "Have we not already endured thick and thin together? Have I not already stood by your side?"

"Saying it like that makes it sound like thin and thinner."

"Then understand me when I say," Anna made sure John could not look away. "That we'll get married as soon as possible. Tomorrow, if we can. But you'll go to the Registry Office and get a special license. I don't care what it costs."

"Not sure I do either."

"You don't have to tell anyone but the witnesses but this you will do." Anna swallowed, "I'll not be on the sidelines while you bear this, without even the right to be kept informed. I won't risk the legitimacy of our child on the chance you might never come back from wherever they send you. And I certainly won't fight this war without the thought that, somewhere, you're bound to me by God."

"Even if it's only until death do us part?"

"Oh John," Anna dragged her fingers over his forehead to ruffle his hair. "Don't you know that death doesn't stop love? It only delays it awhile."

"Then," John shifted, watching Anna's eyes darken. "I'd say we've no time to waste on making sure I leave you so well loved it's as if I wasn't gone at all."

"I'll count every second you're not with me."

"Don't do that." John ground against her as his fingers snaked between them to enter her. "It'll just waste precious time you can think about me."

"And do what you're doing?"

"You did demonstrate, a few weeks ago, that you're very adept at this." John grinned, leaning forward to kiss Anna's neck. "I'd hate for all that practice to go to waste in the interim."

"Because you've spoiled me so thoroughly?" Anna's breath hitched but she pushed him back to lay flat on the bed again so she could better move against his fingers. "It's been such torture."

"Then just do this whenever you think of me." John held to her hip with his other hand to help guide her motions as Anna rolled her hips to take his fingers deeper. "So you'll miss me less."

"Or more." Anna's fingers tightened on John's shoulders. "And if I did this… Every time I thought of you… I'd never get anything done."

"I don't find myself all too bothered about that prospective."

"I do have my business to run." Anna paused, one of her hands forsaking her hold on his shoulder to grip his wrist. "And, with your permission and Mr. Talbot's help, yours as well."

"So that's why you're marrying me." John moved his thumb, following the guidance of Anna's fingers on his wrist. "To seize control of my empire and build it up again in your image."

"Would that be so terrible?"

"If I could, I'd tear down the whole world to rebuild it in your image."

"What a lovely thought."

"Not as lovely you'll be in a moment."

Before Anna could even express her confusion, her nails dug into John's shoulder and she cried out as his thumb and fingers brought her to another climax. But his moment of triumph was short-lived as Anna removed his fingers and brought them to her mouth. She sucked them dry, leaving John's hips bucking and jerking toward her, and used the grip on his wrist to maneuver herself down his legs so she could engulf him in a single swallow.

John pressed his head into the mattress under him so hard he was sure his neck cracked. It did not deter Anna as she licked over him before swallowing to leave him moaning. Only when he begged her, on the very edge of releasing, did Anna bring her head up.

"Will you marry me, Mr. Bates?"

"Yes." John nodded so vigorously his chin almost slapped his chest. "Tomorrow if I can and sooner if I can't."

Anna let out a laugh and glided back up his body to position herself. "Then I'd better make sure you're properly motivated."

She sheathed him in a second, holding herself still to let out a tiny cry before moving. John's fingers echoed her earlier ferocity when he grabbed at her hips to try and control her speed. But he quickly realized that her position left her as the pilot of on their voyage. So he gave over to her control and groaned out his finish when she wrung it from him before her fingers completed her own.

They lay together, Anna on John's chest as his fingers followed the lines of her back and occasionally tangled in her hair. She laughed into his skin, kissing just above his heart. "Gwen'll be so disappointed."

"What?" John twisted his head at an odd angle until Anna moved to look down on him. "What's Gwen got to do with it?"

"She was looking forward to doing my dresses."

"Dresses?" John frowned, "Don't you just need one?"

"For a man of position and title you're not aware of the intricacies of this particular event, are you?"

"I've never been married."

"Well," Anna brought up her hand so she could tick her fingers to count. "There's the dress for the engagement announcement. We'll have photographs and little notes in the local papers for everyone to gawk and comment over."

"I'd rather we tell no one. But I will submit to a photograph for our occasion."

"Then," Anna ticked up her next finger. "There's the dress for the engagement party we'll have to throw. Gwen believes it'd be a ball and, given your name, I don't doubt her assumption."

"Only if I only dance with you."

"Then there's the wedding dress itself, for the grand church ceremony."

"Catholic of Anglican?"

"Your choice, Mr. Bates." Anna kissed his cheek, "The fourth is the dress for the wedding ball and celebration. Something that looks like the wedding dress but I can dance and move in."

"And Gwen wanted to do all these?"

"She wanted to do more," Anna curled her fingers back down, tracing the lines of John's chest. "She wanted to make all the underthings for the wedding dress and the trousseau for the wedding night."

"Given she's already made such fine garments," John ran a hand up Anna's arm. "I'm not sure I could deny that woman anything."

"Then, perhaps," Anna counted the days. "We'd have to get married in two weeks. It'd be enough time, if she burns all the midnight oil between here and the moon, for Gwen to make all the dresses and accouterments. We'd have the dress for the announcement in two days, the ball the day after that, and the two wedding dresses by the next week."

"That would work the poor woman to death."

"She might like the challenge." Anna met John's eyes. "How long until you'd have to go?"

"Maybe a month."

"Then we'll get married before you go. To give everyone enough time and…" Anna raised her shoulder slightly. "To make it seem more like we've make quick work of it because of the war and not because we're already with child."

"Gwen'll have to work around it."

"She already has." Anna settled on the bed next to John. "Do you agree?"

"I've no choice in this matter." John smiled at her, "You've had your way with me, Ms. Smith, and you've fully ensnared my soul so how could I say anything but 'yes' to anything you ask of me?"

"Good." Anna closed her eyes and John watched her face. "We'd best sleep now. We've much to do starting tomorrow."

"Yes we do."

And the moment they both woke, in the gray of the morning, it began. John hurried to leave the house in his clothing from the night before and only stopped at home for long enough to doze, change, and get to the Registry Office to arrange the license for marriage. Then he found the nearest Catholic church to arrange with the bishop the details of a grand wedding. A wedding that had Talbot almost in paroxysms of worry that quickly evolved to an efficiency born of desperation.

Three days later, in a dress still being tailored down to the last detail by a redheaded woman, John met Anna at a photographer's studio. The woman, with a mouth full of pins, looked up at him for a second before pinning the hem and fluffing out the end of Anna's dress. Once down, she spit the pins into one palm and presented the other for John to shake.

"I'll assume you're the man so appreciative of my… work." She snuck a smile at the heat of John's flush and shook his hand with vigor. "I'll take the overwhelming compliment painted on your face. It's a lovely shade of red on you."

"Not as lovely as the shade of red you put Anna in just days ago."

"Oh Mr. Bates," Gwen lowered her voice and leaned toward him, "I could do more with that color, if you'd like."

"I think, in this case, I'd enjoy whatever she wears." John stood up straighter as the photographer entered. "I do feel more than a little guilty, with the all the work you're suddenly doing."

"It's a challenge and while you've not given me much time," Gwen waved her hand with the pins as proof, "I think we'll manage it."

"Baron, if you would stand behind your fiancé, we might begin."

John took his position behind the chair that Anna occupied. She sat sideways, facing the camera with her left side dominant toward it while John posed his body opposite while standing in line with the diagonal chair. It kept them in the same line and showed their best sides of a series of photographs that took almost the entire afternoon. But once the last flash smelling of phosphorous wafted away, John helped Anna stand so her legs could finally move.

"Regretting all the details to this process?" John taunted slightly and Anna narrowed her eyes at him before leveling a finger.

"I'll not have that from you. Not when I've been sorting flowers and testing cakes and choosing colors while managing with that new engineer."

"Is he not a fine choice?"

"He's fine enough but he's demanding. Poor Mr. Moseley's almost run off his feet after a single hour with the man." Anna shuddered, "This could kill him."

"Then we'll give him a holiday and invite him to the wedding, as an expression of our gratitude for what he's enduring from Mr. Blake."

"If only that solved the problem." Anna kissed his cheek. "Come, we've both got our tasks to accomplish."

"What if I just wanted to stay with you?" John put his mouth to her ear, whispering to her. "What if I wanted to take you to mine so I could-"

"No," Anna backed away, "I know where that kind of talk ends and we don't have the time."

"We're preparing for our wedding."

"Exactly." Anna leaned in to kiss him. "It's almost here John."

But no matter Anna's assurances, it was as if time now ran more slowly. Each tick of the clock seemed to run backward as he continued the preparations on his end. His secretaries, led by the intrepid Talbot, sent all the appropriate invitations and worked the details of the venues for the balls while also providing all the necessary finery and music for them. Finery that paled in comparison to the light blue Anna wore for their Engagement Party. The party where she allowed John to take her against a wall in the coat room before she left with her parents.

As his day for report closed in, John handed the reins of the wedding to Talbot so he could manage the mandatory doctor visits, the physicals, and the certifications that awarded him his old rank in the Austrian forces from the Boxer Rebellion. His position, as Lord Grantham's aide de camp, left him away from the fighting in a sense but put him as the right hand of Robert Crawley. A position he accepted in a dress uniform in a ceremony that Anna watched on her lunch hour before hurrying back to save Mr. Moseley from another potential breakdown working with Mr. Blake.

Throughout the preparations, the myriad of congratulations and gifts that needed swift notes of gratitude, and the endless train of details and doilies, the day arrived. John bid Anna goodbye the afternoon before, Mrs. Hughes escorting him to the door, and rode nervously in the back of Branson's car to the church with Talbot finally putting a firm hand on his knee to stop it bouncing.

"She'll not stand you up now."

"Unless she's realized her mistake."

"No woman, in her condition and with as much to gain from your death as she has, would change her mind." Talbot looked over something, making a note, before handing it to John. "The last of the paperwork. It signs everything over to Anna while you're at war. It'll leave me as the steward of it all, under her end direction, and keeps it all safe from your vulture relatives when they come seeking their pounds of flesh if you die on those French fields."

"Then they'll starve." John signed the papers where Talbot indicated. "Because you were wise enough to leave everything to Anna and the baby."

"Whatever children she has by you will be inheritors." Talbot read over the last of it before tucking the papers away. "Not that I thought I'd ever be protecting your money like this but…"

"Not like my father protected his money."

"He didn't have someone like Anna to marry."

"Henry," John flexed his jaw a moment, "This will sound odd but, should I die, I don't want Anna left alone."

Talbot blinked at him, "Are you asking me to marry your wife if you die?"

"She likes you, you like her, and while I'm sure she doesn't like you as much as she likes me, given the fortune she'll inherit I fear for the wolves who'll circle her door when she's a very wealthy widow."

"I do hope you haven't suggested this ludicrous proposal to Ms. Smith."

"Of course not but, all the same…"

Talbot sighed, "If it's necessary, I'll present myself as an option to Ms. Smith. Should she decide she's not interested then I'll vet her other options. If she is then… I guess I'll enjoy spending your money."

"Cad."

"Come now," Talbot patted his shoulder as they stopped in front of the cathedral. "You're getting married and you're not going to think about something as morbid as death when you're about to marry before God."

"No," John pulled at his lapels, "I don't think I will."

The ceremony and the guests were nothing to John. All just prelude to Anna walking down the aisle on her father's arm. Even her dress, in the intricate stickwork of Gwen's best work, was a blur as John took Anna's hands in his and recited his vows to her. The only clear moments where when his ring clinked against the one on her finger and their lips met to the generous applause of their guests. Even the dancing at their ball afterward was a footnote in his memories of the day.

He carried her over the threshold of his house and up to their room. Every detail of stripping her dress from her body burned into his memory to accompany the feel of her skin under his lips. And when he finally exposed the lingerie that Gwen made- as white as the dress and forcing a contrast with Anna's skin to make it appear darker and more lustrous- John almost forgot to breathe. But he remembered when Anna moved her leg over his hip and put her lips to his ear.

"Are you just going to stare Mr. Bates?"

John did not stop until Anna screeched out her first finish until the dedication of his fingers using the silk and satin of her knickers to tease and taunt her to a finish. Then he sought the same sounds again when he removed her knickers to expose her to his mouth and the efforts of his fingers plunging deeper inside her until Anna almost screamed her second finish. Less than a moment later, the remainder of her lingerie scattered on the floor so John could kiss and suck at her breasts as he thrust determinedly into her.

Her third finish had him working hard, adjusting their position to move her sideways so her legs slotted between his and they interlocked sideways. The change in angle forced John to move closer to her and brought him rubbing more ferociously against her swollen and soaked folds. It helped his thumb when he pressed and rubbed at her clit to leave her moaning out a fourth finish. One that triggered his own as the self-control that kept him back was nothing but tatters and shred when Anna finished.

John kissed at the sweat on Anna's forehead and held her with their limbs still tangled and intertwined. "Promise me something, while I'm gone?"

"What?" Anna's voice was soft, the slowness of her breathing giving John a smile as he recognized the signs of Anna slipping toward sleep.

"Don't go into my studio." Anna pushed herself up, her eyes blinking as if unsure if she heard him or dreamed it. "I want to show you the paintings I finished of you but I don't want to do it until after I get back."

"Something to look forward to?" Anna pulled his hand, the ring glinting there giving her a shiver when she put it to her abdomen. "Is this not enough?"

"He or she is more than enough." John kissed there, noting the beginnings of definition and smiling at it. "But this is for you. They're a gift."

"Then why not show me now?"

John met her eyes, his hand framing around her jaw. "Because I'm worried that I'll lose myself on that battlefield and…"

Anna silenced him with a kiss, the force of it clacking their teeth together. When she pulled back, tears glinted at the edges of her eyes. "No."

"Not die, Anna. Just…" John took a breath, "I don't talk about what happened in China but I don't recognize the man I was there. I was a good soldier, an excellent fighter, but I wasn't…"

"Your monster theory?"

John nodded, "The paintings are a way for me to know myself again. If I show them to you when I'm back then it means I'll recognize myself. I'll recognize how I saw you, how I see you, and maybe I'll see how you see me reflected back."

"All you'd have to do is ask me for that." Anna matched the motion of his hand on her face with hers on his. "I don't want you to go. Not is that's what you fear will happen. I can't lose you."

"You won't."

"It's not like death, John." Anna shook her head, "That kind of fear is worse because your body'll be here but you won't be. You'll be… You fear you'll be someone else and that scares me more than burying your body."

"Then," John kissed one cheek and then the other. "Don't look at the paintings. Let me show them to you then. Let those be the gift I give you when I get back here. Because I will come back to you. I promise."

"I know you'll walk through Hell itself to keep that promise." Anna kissed him, this one more gentle and slower. "To take with me."

"I can give you better than that Mrs. Bates." John grinned and moved over Anna. "If you want something to take with you, that is."

"I think I'd like that."


	14. The Chessboard

Anna folded her arms over her chest, "Mr. Blake, this isn't a new argument. You've driven my chief engineer to apoplexy before he bursts into tears more times than I've fingers to count them on. And today you've done it again."

"If he's not ready for this work-"

"He's been working with you for a year, Mr. Blake. It is ridiculous at this point to say he's not ready for the work. He's been an engineer at this company since I was knee-high to this desk." Anna put her palm to her forehead. "If you force that man to hand in his resignation, I don't care what corpses I have to crawl through to get you removed from this project, I'll do it. Have I made myself clear?"

"Ms. Smith-"

"It's Mrs. Bates, Mr. Blake and I asked a question you've yet to answer." Anna waited, noting the man's slightly hanging jaw. "Have I made myself clear?"

"Mrs. Bates-"

"Have I made myself clear, Mr. Blake?"

She waited and Mr. Blake finally sighed and raised his hands in surrender, "As crystal, Mrs. Bates."

"Thank you. Now, for this moment on, you'll be working through me." Anna held up a hand to stop an inevitable argument. "It'll save us both time and energy if Mr. Moseley's not always on the brink of a breakdown, thank you."

"Mrs. Bates-"

"I'm sure we've already agreed that there'll be no argument here, Mr. Blake."

Mr. Blake opened his mouth as if to say something but closed it and smiled. "I don't think I've ever met a woman like you."

"I'm so glad." Anna motioned toward the door. "If you'll do your part then I can do mine and we won't drive my chief engineer to suicide."

Mr. Blake nodded and headed for the door, stepping aside to allow Moseley in. They eyed one another for a moment before Blake left and Anna motioned to the door. Moseley closed it before taking the available seat at Anna's desk.

"Is it solved?"

"Yes." Anna took her seat behind her desk. "Mr. Blake'll be working through me in the interim. He'll run all requests and plans through me and you'll do the same while I act as intermediary."

"Is that truly worth your time, ma'am?"

"To make sure you don't soak any more of the plans with your tears?" Anna nodded, "Worth my time and more besides."

"Then I'm all for it." Moseley gave an awkward laugh. "I'll be glad not to have to bring an extra handkerchief or three to work."

"I'm sure Ms. Baxter will appreciate not having to do as much washing." Anna dug into a drawer and pulled out a notebook she then handed over to Moseley. "If you'd follow up on those plans, we'll see what Mr. Blake thinks of them once you've had your eye on them."

"Then you've approved my designs?"

"I've looked at them and they are promising." Anna nodded at the book as Moseley flipped through the contents. "I made a few adjustments but mostly it's more about the constraints and the dimensions than the overall designs. If you draw up those plans then I'll submit them to Mr. Blake and we'll see if he torments me the way he's tormented you."

"It's not torment… exactly." Moseley shuffled in his seat. "He's exacting-"

"As we should expect of our government agents." Anna paused, "Is there something you think about his occupation that makes him less able to work with you or with us on these designs?"

"I think he's not used to the idea of working with normal people." Moseley tapped his temple, "Men like him have more going on up here than the average man. They don't think like we do. They can't express it like we do because they think faster and higher and better than we do."

"What a way to make us feel less."

Moseley shook his head, "I don't envy the life of someone with a mind that works faster than any of those new automobiles."

"I'll take your word for it." Anna interlaced her fingers and rested them on her desk. "Do you think you can continue to work with him?"

"He's a genius and that's why he's so tightly wound. It's something to learn to adapt around, not get rid of if you take my suggestion." Moseley shrugged, his fingers flexing in the notebook. "There's a lot riding on these plans. Many lives to be saved because of the work he does with us and the work he might do."

"I do understand. However," Anna stood, "I'd rather he not sacrifice your sanity and my reserve in the process of saving those lives. The trade isn't worth it."

"Thank you for the vote of confidence Mrs. Bates." Moseley stood as well, shaking her hand. "And how is Johnny?"

"He's wonderful. Growing like a weed and Mrs. Hughes absolutely adores him. Barely lets Nanny take care of him." Anna shook her head, "It tears me to pieces to leave him in the morning."

"Phyllis always said the same about our little ones, when we had them in the house, and it never gets easier."

"I hope it does when Mr. Bates gets back."

Moseley handled the notebook, "How is Mr. Bates?"

"His letters don't tell me much." Anna's fingers traced over the top of her desk, "But that's to be expected, I think. They've got him working with something about as top secret as whatever additions Mr. Blake inevitably adds to our designs."

"But he's safe?"

Anna nodded, "He's told me that much. His work with Lord Grantham's kept him back from the fighting but… One never knows in war."

"No," Moseley shook his head. "I've never spoken of it before but…"

Anna waited as he shivered and then collected himself. "I served in the Boer Wars. Nothing to boast about, no medals for bravery or anything, but I remember what it was. And, for Mr. Bates, to serve twice…" He swallowed before meeting Anna's eyes. "It's a rare man willing to put aside his fears to do what he's done."

"He's a rare man in many ways."

"He is." Moseley nodded, swallowing hard, "Men like me are grateful for men like him because… Because it means there are people interested in what's best for more than just themselves. Those people are special."

"Yes, he is."

"I want to say thank you… Since I can't say it to him."

"Thank you, Mr. Moseley, for your kind thoughts." Anna forced herself to breathe. "That's more generous of you to say than I deserve."

"I don't think so." Moseley jittered, as if trying to shrug something off his shoulders. "I know I only met him at your wedding but… He seemed the kind of man who does the right thing because he should, not because it's easy."

"Doesn't always make it easy for the rest of us."

"If it were easy, Mrs. Bates, we'd all do it." Mr. Moseley nodded at her, "I'll get right on these plans."

"Thank you."

Mr. Moseley left and Anna took a moment to compose herself before sitting down at her desk to get to work. But even hours of notating plans and designs, balancing accounts and drawing up receipts, and even trying to act as mediator between disputing workman was not enough to drag her thoughts from John.

It was easy, most days, to try and not think of him. They were barely wed before he was rushed to war with all the others in their uniforms. When they bid goodbye at the train station, his hands resting and drifting constantly to her abdomen as if to reassure himself of the life growing between them, they did not speak. There were no words to share amidst the clamor and valor and false bravery of the young men eager to prove themselves on a field of battle they thought of as no more than a way to play. To "finally have something happen in their lives" as Anna heard one young man shout to his friends who cheered.

John was different.

His face and uniform bore signs of wear and tear. They were the signals of a man returning to a place he hoped to leave forever. Their fingers flexed and intertwined as they walked the platform as slowly as time and train and tide would allow. But, eventually… inevitably, they parted at the door. Anna gripped his sleeve and Joh nodded at her. His hand brushed against her cheek and he leaned to give her a simple kiss.

"Something to take with me."

Amid the jumble of all those seeking kisses and favors from their sweethearts or the local girls trying to well wish the village heroes, Anna and John were barely noticed. At the first class carriages they were almost removed from the din and the simple kiss spun longer and deeper. When John tried to pull away, perhaps in consideration of her modesty or propriety or whatever other reason he could have for cutting short their last kiss, Anna clung to him. Clung to his desire to "take it with him" and would not release until the conductor blew his whistle.

She pulled back, wiping at tears as John mimicked her actions, and stepped only far enough away to avoid a shout from the men walking the line. Then the train pulled away and Anna watched until John was no more than a mirage in the fog and smoke. That was a moment she was sure that noise around her faded to nothing so she could hear her heart break.

Just a little.

His first letter was creased, worn, and almost see-through from her tears and the re-readings. Each letter after earned the same treatment before joining the pile she kept carefully tucked under her pillow for comfort. Her fingers stroked the paper, imagining John's fingers doing the same and wishing they could cross the dimensions of time and space to brush their fingers together at the same time. Perhaps on the letters. Perhaps on something else.

Something else that he hinted about in his letters.

Unlike the missives they exchanged when he was in Austria- a fact they neglected to mention in any letter in case someone thought they would do a service to the Empire and try to make trouble for the half-Austrian officer- these were more veiled. Knowing that each letter was read by someone, perhaps a few someones should the contents prove titillating enough, made them careful. But not so much so that Anna did not well utilize the instruction John gave her… before and after her demonstration of mastery in their hotel room.

Some nights she thought about that night. Sometimes to bring herself to moans and sighs before turning her head to the pillow to shed a few tears as she remembered John being next to her. And other times just to dwell on how they had such fleeting time together. On her blackest nights, the ones she never mentioned in her letters, she wondered if those memories would be all she had to suffice herself for the rest of her life. If those moments were all they would ever share.

Then another letter would come and, for a moment, her fears would rest and her worries soothe. Worries that changed when Johnny was born. Worries that sometimes changed to sorrow when Johnny was born.

Bearing a child proved one of life's great challenges. A challenge in that her born brought forth another human being and she could hardly recall the event. The midwife, when putting the squalling and squirming baby to Anna's chest, commented that childbirth is the rare event when the body seems determined to forget it for the betterment of the species.

"None of the women I see ever remember how they screamed and cried and vowed never to have another." She shook her head, packing up her bag just as Johnny took to feeding. "Then they see another baby or their little one learns to walk and doesn't need holding as much an they're back on the birthing bed."

"What a circle." Anna had only commented with half of her attention as the other half was taken up by John's eyes staring back at her from the runched face.

It was his eyes that did it. Despite John's warnings in his letters- after gushing and even sobbing so hard there were sections of two letters Anna needed to ask him to rewrite because they were illegible- that they not name their first son after him she did. Because every time he looked at her with those eyes, even as her hand smoothed his golden hair to his head, they blinked back at her as if John was staring back. They reminded her too much of the man so far away that she latched onto whatever hope she had. And named their child John Bates Junior while calling him Johnny for now.

John learned to accept it and eagerly begged for news about their growing child. A child whose picture Anna sent as soon as she could. The same photographer who had prepared their engagement and wedding photographers took one of her holding Johnny to send to John. An expense John tried to talk her out of but once he had it Anna knew he changed his mind. For one thing, it never came up in his letters again. For another, she had the same photograph next to one of John in uniform so she could always stare at their family. They sat on the mantlepiece, together as they should have been in the sitting room or their bedroom but now sat hundreds of miles apart. Worlds apart, even.

Although those worlds seemed closer together when Anna finally moved from her houses to his. Talbot arranged the sale, giving the place to Gwen and her Mr. Harding when Anna arranged for them to keep the furniture. It had invited a few moments of terror on behalf of Anna's household staff, small though the staff was, but Talbot put their minds to rest by assuring them that John's household always ran at bare bones and there was more than enough room for them all. A fact Mrs. Hughes remedied as she took control of the house and its staff to get them shipshape and Bristol fashion in no time at all.

Anna kept out of the woman's way. She tended to Johnny when she could wrangle him free from Nanny and Mrs. Hughes and her work when neither of those approaches worked. And while the house fought the battle of change on its own, Anna wandered to John's library… Without Johnny.

Part of her was tempted. Her fingers even closed over the latch that would put her in the room they shared. The room where he painted her for the first time. The room where she became his for the first time. Anna's forehead leaned on the wall and her hand flexed on the knob as if all she had to do was turn it and there she would be, back at that night. Or perhaps he just waited on the other side and she only needed the courage to breach the distance and see him.

But she did not. Anna forced herself away from the library and John's room, burying herself in work until she only thought vaguely about the paintings in her every day. John made that difficult in his letters when he included sketches. Sketches of her in every day situations made her smile. Those of her with Johnny in situations John imagined for them- sometimes including himself in the dreams- could bring Anna to tears. And those of her in less publicly acceptable positions had her practicing for when he returned. But all such instances almost tempted her back to the room, to see those paintings he hid away for when he returned, and all that kept her back was the memory of the fear in his eyes.

A fear she understood better, she thought as she finished her notations on the last of the day's designs and closed the ledger to keep it and the designs in the large safe in her office, now that John was at war. Even in the "early days" as most had called the first year of the war, Anna watched men come home. She watched the confidence drain out of the populace as the "easy beating of the Jerries" turned into a long slog of mud that brought men back missing limbs, soul, or life. Hospitals filled, great houses took to aiding the effort as convalescent homes, and no amount of charitable donations made a dent in the lines outside soup kitchens.

Anna closed her office and walked down to the floor. The shift change signaled a mass exodus that Anna waited out in Ms. Baxter's office, cramped with the addition of Moseley's drafting board and his plans gathered in a corner. From her position she could see the perpetually drawn blinds of Blake's office, formerly Moseley's before their continual spats ousted the latter, and she shook her head before leaving the building after the whistle blew the start of the new shift.

Branson waited outside the motor, leaning on the doors as he chatted away with some of the dock workers before snapping to at the sight of Anna. She smiled at him and climbed into the rear seat to situate herself while he took to the driver's side. "Interesting conversation? I'd hate to cut it short."

"Mostly just people wondering how a spry man, like myself, hasn't put himself to the hazard to bleed for God and King and Country."

Anna snorted, "Do they know it's neither your God nor your King nor your Country?"

"Not many English understand that and I've not got the time to argue about Irish suppression." His shoulder hitched, as if trying to shrug off something more substantial than a fly. "I almost put myself forward, just to take to parade and make a show of being a contentious objector."

"Because you don't believe in the war?"

"Because I don't believe in war at all, ma'am."

Anna's lips attempted a weak smile. "I think Mr. Bates would agree with you on that point."

"Ask any man in any of those bread lines and he'll tell you the same." Branson steered them carefully between the streets clogging every day with more cars and all the military vehicles attempting to do their part for the effort. "But then Mr. Talbot convinced me that I'd be of no use to you or Lord Rothschild if I were somewhere as inconvenient as a prison so I went to get a physical and found that I've got a heart murmur and they'd never take me anyway."

"What a lost opportunity." Anna sighed, "Don't tell me you've planned to do something as ridiculous as ruin one of the fancy dinners I put on with some kind of sludge or practical joke at the expense of my household and business."

"Never ma'am. To ruin your industry would say more about my character, in the negative mind you, than I could ever say about the war or what I think of it."

"Good to know I don't have to warn Mrs. Hughes about something as daring and foolish as a gamble for newspaper headlines."

"I'd hate to do you or Mr. Bates the dishonor."

"Good to know."

Branson pulled them safely into the street outside John's house and helped Anna from the motor. "Will you need me again this evening?"

"I doubt it. I've no engagements and, even if I did…" Anna sighed, "Tonight's not the night for it."

"Too tired?"

"Too much to think about." Anna shrugged, forcing a smile. "And I've a young man in there who needs my attention."

"Master Johnny is a handful." Branson tipped his hat, "I'll just park the motor and take the evening, if that's alright."

"Perfectly." Anna ascended the stairs to the front door and nodded at the footman who opened it for her in time to see Mrs. Hughes approaching. "Tell me Mrs. Hughes, at what point will the Army or Navy or whatever other wartime force they'll muster come for our footmen?"

"Whenever they like, once they're over the age of eighteen." Mrs. Hughes nodded at the footman, barely a boy out of his spots. "I've had Mr. Carson start hiring them younger. It gives them a chance to earn for their families while giving us a chance to train possible future employees."

"I can't see him going for that idea without more than a little prodding."

"I convinced him when he realized he might otherwise have to submit to the indignity of having maids open the door and see to the guests at dinner."

"I'm sure he was apoplectic at the thought." Anna finally divested herself of coat, hat, and gloves to hand over to Mrs. Hughes. "I, on the other hand, don't find it would bother me one bit to see a few more faces at dinner like mine."

"Given your penchant for employment, I doubt you'll see more ladies at the table unless they decide to bring their wives instead of insisting they've no mistresses." Mrs. Hughes paused, "Or you could just start inviting their wives."

"Most of them bore me to death." Anna shuddered. "They either want to believe that there is no war and things should go on as normal or they're terrified of war to the point where they can discuss nothing else. There's rarely a mind between them that I even respect."

"But their husbands?"

"About the same really." Anna titled her neck up to gaze for a moment at the high ceiling of the foyer. "Sometimes I realize that I signed on for more than just the money of Baron Rothschild when I married him. I signed on to keep his house running and his reputation as magnanimous as it was before."

"He'll be grateful to you."

"His lawyer, Mr. Talbot, already is." Anna let her body sag a moment, as if to leave whatever frustration came through the door with her there on the marble floor. "And where is the other man in my life? I think I'd like to spend some time with someone whose requests on my time and attention are far easier to understand and meet."

"He's in the nursery."

"With Nanny?" Mrs. Hughes refused to meet Anna's eyes and the evasion did not go unnoticed. "Mrs. Hughes?"

"He's with someone."

Anna did not respond, proceeding instead to the stairs and taking them as quickly as she could in her long skirt to reach the first floor. Her shoes muffled in the carpets of the floor and she opened the door to Johnny's nursery without a warning. A warning that might have prepared her for the sight inside.

John stood there, still in his uniform, rocking their cooing child in his arms. His gaze turned up as Anna's fingers gripped the knob of the door harder as if it could ground her in the moment she immediately assumed was a dream. He smiled and the sparkle in his eyes from unshed tears brought those Anna refused to let loose for months down her cheeks in a second.

"He's beautiful Anna."

She crossed the distance between them in less time than it took for her to comprehend she made the choice. Despite the wriggling mass between them, they embraced as tightly as they could manage. Her fingers dug into the rough material of his uniform to hold herself to him and prove to her doubting mind that he truly stood before her.

If that did not, then Johnny's protest separated them. John laughed as he rocked Johnny until the motions only forced him to protest further and he handed the baby to Anna. "He's got my eyes."

"Hence why he's named for you."

"He's got your hair."

Anna snorted and held Johnny close to her until his fingers worked into her dress as a signal. "I can't very well name him after me, now can I? Besides, I'd just stare at him for hours, hoping he'd open his eyes and look at me so I could imagine you were back with me."

She took a seat on the small sofa in the room, John joining her after closing the door to the nursery to give them some privacy as Anna unbuttoned her collar. Pausing to give a little laugh as John's raised eyebrows of confusion. "He's hungry and needs to feed."

"So you'll just…"

"You've seen them before." Anna taunted, letting her blouse drape over the arm of the sofa before she wrestled her corset apart.

"I have." John's tongue dragged over his teeth. "The threat being that I might demand my turn when he's through."

"Perhaps I'd like that." Anna finally freed herself enough to position Johnny so he could feed. She reclined back, sighing as she stared at John. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming?"

"It was a secret, of sorts." John shrugged, "I was due the leave anyway but Robert wanted someone to carry messages back to London."

"Is Lord Grantham worried about a spy?"

"We're paranoid of everything there." John loosened his uniform, finally shedding his jacket and boots and a few other restraining bands so he could breathe deeply. "Every sound in the night is the Jerries coming for us and… I haven't slept a wink in so long."

Anna reached out a hand, holding his while her arm wrapped Johnny to keep him in place. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I couldn't." John shook his head, "It's one of the things you don't want to talk about. Not in letters people are reading. I don't… I don't want anyone questioning if I should be there when I've already got enough to deal with being half-Austrian and half-Irish."

"But all English as far as I can see." Anna pointed to the uniform, "They wouldn't have let you wear that if they didn't trust you."

"They trust Robert and he trusts me. It was good enough to get another man in the field." John shrugged, "They don't have to trust me to put me on the lines. If I turn traitor then a stray bullet will kill me as well as a hanging."

"Don't." Anna shook her head, "Please don't talk like that. Not here."

"I'm sorry." John's fingers tightened over hers. "I didn't mean to frighten you."

"It's not that… Or, not all that." Anna gave him a small smile. "It's more that if you died out there, because of negligence on behalf of our government, I might do something drastic and neither of us would like that."

"What kind of drastic would you be?"

"I might have to take the matter to whomever will listen and wait for hours outside military headquarters or make a stink about ill-treatment." Anna loosened their fingers a bit so she could switch sides for Johnny, whose eyes were falling as he edged toward sleep. "You wouldn't want that."

"Then I'll endeavor to live just to save my reputation."

They were silent until Johnny finished. He whimpered slightly and then settled against John when he took the boy to lay him in the cradle. It rocked as Anna sorted herself and she noted John watching Johnny sleep. "You can sleep in here, if you want. To watch him."

"What?" John pivoted, his attempt to look innocent bringing a smile to Anna's face. "I wouldn't dream-"

"I have." Anna pointed to the bed in the corner. "On nights when I missed you more than life itself I was here. I wanted to be close to him because he made me feel closer to you."

John approached the sofa, kneeling before Anna and taking her hands with his. "I'll be back Anna. I promise you, I'll be back."

"I know." She brought their joined hands to her lips, kissing at his fingers until she could put a hand alongside his jaw. "You've not shaved."

"I did two days ago but…"

Anna silenced him with a kiss, only pulling back far enough to smile where he could see the devious twinkle in her eye. "I didn't say I didn't like it."

"Then perhaps I should let you feel it more." John's hands untangled from hers and slid over her thighs through her skirt, his rough palms catching on the fabric as he pulled rucked it up to her waist to leave her stocking-ed legs exposed to him. "If you want."

"There's little else I want more." Anna brought his lips to hers, kissing him furiously as her imaginings for a year tumbled and toppled through her mind in an instant. "We'll just have to keep quiet."

"Of course." John grinned, kissing her quickly before his hands urged her legs to part and allow him to remove her knickers. "Wouldn't want to wake the baby."

That task proved almost herculean the moment John pressed his whiskered kisses to Anna's skin. The abrasive brush of his cheeks left her shivering and when he finally reached her inner thighs, the skin especially sensitive, Anna dug her nails into the weave of the sofa to keep herself from clawing into his scalp. John's tongue and lips over her skin and then sucking heartily at her center left Anna sobbing into the back of her hand but insistent that John not stop. And he did not until her legs tightened around his ears and her body shuddered through her finish.

Anna sagged back, her fingers finding John's sleeve and urging him to follow her to sofa. Their clothing piled and shifted, the particulars of getting one another undressed after so long almost like a familiar but foreign language. But once they were skin to skin, John's weight pressing Anna deliciously into the confines of the sofa, it only took her leg over his hip to encourage him forward.

They both paused when she hissed at the momentary tightness but John's easy movements opened Anna until she could take all of him. The lines on his face deepened as he tried to restrain himself and Anna leaned up, her nails digging into his shoulder for leverage, to whisper in his ear. "Let go John. Don't hide from me."

With the reins loose, John placed a large hand on Anna's hip to trail to her thigh. The thigh he hitched higher up his hip while dragging her onto the flat of her back on the sofa so he loomed over her. He waited only a moment, kissing her deeply while grinding inside her, and then thrust forward hard.

Whatever motions John engaged before, whatever worries he had over Anna responding to him, faded at her invitation. The pounding motions creaked the material of the sofa and even squeaked the legs against the floor. And if either of them thought the pace particularly punishing then neither said. Fingers just dug deeper into flesh, nails raked harder, and their sounds mingled until Anna arched under John at her second finish. A finish John closely followed.

They panted and held to one another, only adjusting enough to put Anna over John so his weight did not suffocate her into the sofa. There were no words to share as their fingers traced over skin and their kisses slowed in their chase of the sweat beading over their bodies. The silence, only broken by the little whimpers and snorts of their son, was enough to keep them in the moment.

A moment Anna would not allow to pass by. She shifted, bringing lines to John's forehead in his confusion but she kissed those away before sliding down his body. After that it only took a moment or two for him to understand. His hands tried to urge her up but Anna refused, staying in place until John's soft whimpers and muted cries for her to let him finish inside her.

She acquiesced, drawing back with her lips and mouth sucking hard on him a final time before she took her pose above him. His eyes fixed at the juncture between her legs but Anna found she did not mind watching him watch her as she slid down him until her knees could grip tightly at his hips. His hands moved between her hips and her breasts, driving her to move faster and grind down more forcefully until John sat up to take her breasts in his mouth. Then Anna could do naught but chase their pleasure together until they came in a rush.

Her fingers ran over his shoulders and back, keeping him close to her as his breath blew hot over her skin. Their limbs quivered and shuddered occasionally until they finally separated enough to giggle at their position. Anna kissed John, her fingers trailing softly over his face when she stopped.

"Mrs. Hughes'll want us both for dinner. And Nanny'll worry about Johnny if we stay in here too long."

"Do you want to leave?"

"No." Anna shook her head. "We're alone here. We're together here. And the rest of the world can boil themselves if they think I care."

John smiled at her but Anna noted the twinge of sadness in his eyes. "We can't stay here forever."

"Why not?"

"Because we'll have to eat, eventually, and sleep on something a bit more comfortable than the confines of this sofa."

"There's a bed over there." Anna pointed and then squealed when John tickled her side for it.

"I want to sleep in our bed." John's voice was low. "With you."

"Then we'll need to look halfway decent if we're going to get across the hall." Anna put her hand to John's chest to push herself to her feet. "And then we'll just continue in bed."

"What about dinner?"

"Can't we eat in bed?"

John only grinned.


	15. Accustomed to Her Face

John stroked his fingers as gently as he could over Anna's nose and cheek, trying not to wake her. She only snuffled and shifted, moving onto her side with her head away from him. Or, as John confirmed over his shoulder, away from the sun that dared to peek through the curtains of their room. But her move left her naked back exposed to his touches and he continued the leisurely exploration of her skin with the barest of caresses.

She made a small noise and John paused for a moment before Anna settled again. John leaned over and kissed the space between her shoulder blades before inhaling the scent of her skin. Her smell that mixed with the lavender soap of her bath, the smell of his cologne after she insisted he shave, and the smell of them after their night together in their bed.

His fingers moved over her skin again and he could not stop himself kissing her as his other hand crunched the blankets around them in his fingers. The sounds of the city waking below them distracted him and John almost turned over his shoulder to check for someone. A motor backfired, the puffing explosion ringing in John's ears and he shook his head in an attempt to dispel the flashing of dirt and mud and bright lights on an unforgiving horizon coming over him.

John released the bedsheets, drawing back from Anna. She had not moved, her side rising and falling easily, undisturbed by his sudden jerk. It took another second before John pushed himself from the bed and went to the bathroom.

His hands gripped the sink and he tried to close his eyes but each time he did it was as if the pictures played on zoetrope in his brain. The distant screams and shouts for help. The flashes of the dropped bombs, the incessant shelling, and the constant crack of shots that sparked and crackled. Opening his eyes only brightened the weak morning light and brought the auditory overload to his brain. He stumbled back, his hands going to cover his ears, and he hit the wall with his shoulder.

Sliding down the wood, John curled on the floor and held himself there. His body shook, everything too loud and too bright and too close so he flailed out when something touched his skin. He opened his eyes to find the source of the possible attack and noted Anna, her fingers holding her dressing gown closed, and he immediately scrambled back until he hit the tub. Before he could rub a hand to the back of his throbbing skull, Anna knelt in front of him and placed her hands on his scalp. She rubbed gently there until John's body calmed and he put his fingers around her wrists to pull her hands away.

"I'm alright."

"Are you?" John tried to answer her but closed his mouth and shook his head. He brought his hands to his face, covering it but immediately pulling them back when the tremor in his hands vibrated over his skin. Anna's hands closed over his and John met her eyes. "It's alright to not be alright you know."

John almost nodded again but his body shuddered and tears came. Tears he could not say were because he was sad or scared or happy. Tears that were more… a release? Regardless of what they were, Anna drew him toward her. They had to shuffle a bit on the tiled floor but Anna managed to get him leaning against her as he cried, his tears immediately soaking the delicate silk of her dressing gown.

When John tried to pull away, wiping furiously at his eyes, Anna held him still. "Don't move. Not yet. I don't want to lose you yet."

John only cried harder. His fingers folded into the fabric of her dressing gown and brought them closer. Close enough for him to smell her and try to use the scent to replace the memories threatening to clog his mind with those of a different time. A better time. Their time, right now, together.

When his chest stopped shaking and the tears dried from his eyes, John shifted. He pulled back just enough to see Anna and sighed when her hands caressed over his face. "There you are. Right there, where I left you."

"You almost make me feel like I'm a dog who obeyed your commands."

"Never." Anna shook her head, kissing his forehead for a moment before trailing her lips down his face. "You're my husband and whatever you think might drag you from me didn't."

"But it could." John shook himself loose enough to see Anna again, stopping her intended seduction. "It's there Anna. Being out on those fields, even away from the fighting… It's like I'm back in China. I see the explosions and the lights and the fires and I… I'm right back there."

"But right now, here, you're with me." Anna waited, studying his face. "Are you with me right now John?"

"I want to be." John nodded toward their bedroom, the bed still in view. "You were lying there and I… I wanted to kiss all over your body until you woke up but then there was a noise from the window and all I could hear was…"

Anna held his hands, waiting for him to continue, but John could not find the words. "I wasn't here, Anna. I couldn't be here."

"You're back now." Anna let her fingers stroke along the flesh of his hand. "And I won't lose you yet. You'll be here, for awhile, and we'll make new memories for you to take back. Memories to try and shut out the others."

John chewed the inside of his cheek. "Do you understand what it's like?"

"No, I don't." Anna snuggled toward him and John put his back to the cabinets under the sink to hold her steady. "But you do and for as long as you do, I'll be here for you however you may need me."

"Even if I cry out in the middle of the night or cry or run from loud noises or hide in a corner if I feel the world is overwhelming me?"

Anna's hand settled over his heart, her fingers drawing nonsense circles on his skin. "I'll make your excuses and then mine before I join you." Her hand on his chest proved enough to get herself upright to see him again. "I'll not leave you alone in this. I don't understand it but I want to be here for you through it."

"I don't think there's a 'through it'." John shook his head, "I knew a man who went home because he suffered too much. Everyone called him sick in the head and he couldn't stand that they called him a coward so he went back."

"What happened?"

"Shot himself with his own service weapon rather than join a charge." John stared at his hands for a second. "I had to write his family and tell them what happened. I had… I had to see him body and give instructions about how to send him home when I knew his family didn't want to see what I did."

"John-"

"That's why I didn't…" John took a breath, closing his eyes and reveling in the darkness behind them a moment. "That's why I've never talked about my service. I never wanted anyone to see what I've seen. I don't want you to know what I know."

"And it's worse now?"

John nodded, "If there is one thing we all can't seem to stop getting right it's how to better kill one another. How to best destroy ourselves."

Anna did not immediately respond. Instead one of her hands smoothed over John's shoulders while the other gripped his tightly. "You're not destroying yourself John. You're not… You're not going to lose yourself out there."

"You can't be sure of that."

"But I can." Anna pointed through the wall, "Because on the other side of that wall is your son. He'll be up shortly. Cranky and crying for what he wants, but he'll be satisfied once I feed him. Then he'll gurgle and giggle and burp himself back to a pleasant attitude before he falls asleep again. Or needs a change or Nanny takes him on a walk or he wants another feeding."

"You make it sound almost monotonous."

"It's his life and he loves it because he doesn't know anything else." Anna scooted around to sit face-on with John. "He loves you."

"He doesn't know me yet."

"And we don't know him beyond the feeding and the shitting and the crying and the sleeping but we love him." They both laughed, John almost drowning himself in the way Anna's face lit with the tinkling of her laugh. "He loves you and he needs you, desperately."

"He doesn't need a broken man."

"You're not broken unless you think you are." Anna waited, "Are you broken already John? Should I take you back and exchange for another?"

John shook his head, "I just… I feel broken. I don't feel whole."

"Not even with me?" Anna nodded toward the wall, "Not with Johnny?"

"Of course I feel whole with you."

"Then perhaps you need to spend more time with me." Anna maneuvered over John's legs, perching herself on her knees over him so the silk of her dressing gown caressed his skin. "Would you like that as much as I do John?"

His hands moved over her thighs, the silk of her dressing gown falling over him as he traced her outline to note she forwent all undergarments. Her fingers twirled in his hair, carding through it when John's hands moved over her breasts to caress them, and the grip aligned their gazes. They stared at one another a moment before Anna shifted forward to run her gown between their bodies.

"Would you like that John?"

"I'd like that very much."

He parted the dressing gown enough to leave her exposed to his gaze. The strip of her skin, bordered by the gown, was more enticing than seeing her fully naked as the temptation proved better for the imagination. An imagination he used often before he first saw her naked in his studio. When he tried to paint her without knowing how she truly looked with pleasure etched on her face.

The pleasure he brought her etched on her face.

"What?"

John blinked, noting the lazy caress of his hands over her body had not furthered his objective, and brought himself back to the present. "What?"

Anna smiled, wagging a finger at him while the other held the back of his neck to get her fingers curling in the hair that just brushed at the nape. "I asked first and it's not polite to try and usurp me."

"I wasn't trying to usurp you." John brought his hand higher, running it between Anna's breasts before covering one. "I was curious why you were worried."

"Who said I was worried?"

"Your tone." John's other hand rounded her thigh before tracing a sporadic pattern toward where she already swelled slightly. "You seemed worried that I might forget what I wanted."

"Did you?"

"No." John shook his head and closed one hand over her breast while running a finger to her clit. "I was just thinking about the first time I saw you naked."

"How racy of you." Anna shifted against him. "Any particular reason?"

"Just that the sight of you, for the first time, was better than I could ever have imagined." John's hands lightened their touch, teasing and taunting, and he leaned forward to kiss along the column of Anna's neck. "But that I still had all those things I'd imagined about you before I saw you."

"And now?"

"This," John tugged lightly on the dressing gown, "Makes you all the more desirable. Hides you from me, makes me wonder, makes me imagine, and makes me want you all the more."

Anna almost giggled but it changed to a gasp when John's fingers entered her, stroking along the muscles that almost immediately flexed against him. Her eyes scrunched shut before she came to herself again. "Should I wear more clothes, to satisfy your imagination?"

"Not this time." John's fingers worked deeper, bringing Anna's lower lip between her teeth, and he snuck a peek to see the results of his work. The gleaming shine he tried to paint but failed to fully capture.

Instead he focused on Anna. His lips and tongue replaced his hand at her breasts so he could firmly grasp her ass. It brought her closer to him, drove his fingers deeper, and allowed him to find the angle that had Anna's vaginal walls clenching over his fingers. It also allowed the shudders of her climax to shift Anna above him and liven his erection so it rested hot and pulsing against Anna's skin.

As John relaxed his fingers, still moving just enough to drag her orgasm out and continue its roll through her body so her legs quivered around him, he gazed at the expression on her face. "I'll paint that."

"You already told me you would."

"I did and I will but…" John's other hand smoothed over Anna's back under the dressing gown. "When I miss you, I'll paint that. I'll remind myself that I can help you find pleasure like that."

He went to withdraw his fingers but Anna caught his wrist. John frowned but a moment later he groaned when Anna sucked his fingers into her mouth. Her tongue traced over every digit and only released him when they no longer bore traces of her. Traces John then tried to steal from Anna when she kissed him hard.

But she kept her secrets. Kept them long enough to push her knees into the tiles and move the last fraction of distance to take John fully. His hips bucked up to thrust in response to her motion and they moaned in unison. A mix of vocal responses as they shifted and adjusted until John seated himself as deeply inside Anna as he could possibly be.

Even when she spread her legs, to take him just a bit further, John almost whimpered at the sight of Anna spread around him. The sight of her swollen folds taking him deeply, of the shine of her streaking his abdomen because of the angle, and the slick sounds when she drew back before taking him deeply again.

John dipped his head forward and took her breast into his mouth as Anna started to move. His hands held firmly at her ass to better meet the counterpoint of his hips as he drove into her. And while the angle was not ideal for the kind of control that would allow him to leave Anna groaning from pleasure at his motions, it was what she needed to whimper and cry out because of her motions. And he loved every moment of watching Anna take him as she wanted.

They finished in a flurry of fingers and feather-light touches. Anna sagged into John and he held her as their bodies finally succeeded in reminding them of their position and the uncomfortable nature of their chosen location. John groaned and shifted them both from the tile floor before stooping and bending at the knees.

"That was a mistake."

"Was it?" Anna removed her dressing gown, leaving it hanging over a rail as she bent to turn the faucet for the tub.

"Just the location, not the action." John stretched and tried to move while his muscles and body continued to berate him. "This is a very unforgiving floor."

"True." Anna pointed to the bath, "But the water's warm and it'll be more forgiving… If you'd like."

John could only nod.

And continue to nod as he filled his leave with work for his Regiment and his duties as a manager of industry. With Talbot doing work even more secret than John for the war effort, the obligations of his various business ventures had fallen to Anna. She managed it all with the grace befitting the rank she married to and John could only sit back and watch in amazement as she handled his affairs.

"I should retire, when the war's over, and just leave you to manage everything." John pulled the covers back and climbed into their bed as Anna snorted and joined him. "I'm serious. You manage it better than I ever did."

"Your banking family's not going to let you sink into obscurity." Anna cuddled close to him. "And I don't want to do this forever. I'm alright managing it until Talbot comes back. He likes doing it more than me."

John laughed, leaning back into their pillows. "He truly does. It's all a game of sorts to him. He just thinks differently than other people."

"Maybe he should meet the government man who's been driving Mr. Moseley to tears for a year." Anna sighed and John watched her eyes close as she wrapped her arms a bit more tightly around him. "Crack the nuts against one another."

"The last think Henry needs is someone else exactly like him." John paused, his fingers running through Anna's hair. "Did Henry ever talk to you… after I left for my posting?"

"About business. When he can get away from his post he comes 'round." Anna mumbled, her breathing deepening. "Mostly so he can get an eye on the accounts and help me with the bigger business decisions."

"So he's not mentioned what I asked him to do?"

"No idea what that even is."

"I…" John took a breath, his fingers pausing in her hair. "I asked him to take care of you. In case I never came back I asked that he marry you."

Anna blinked and pushed herself off John's chest, the furrow of her brow leading John to swallow. "You asked him to do what?"

"I wanted to make sure you weren't left a wealthy widow at the whim of all the worst that society could dredge up."

"So you commissioned him to marry me?"

"You two got along when I was in Vienna and he's got a good head for my business. It seemed the safest option." John cringed, "I hope you're not mad."

"I'd slap you right now if I wasn't touched that you were looking so far ahead for me." Anna put her hands on John's cheeks. "But you're not going to die. You don't have to worry about what Mr. Talbot does or doesn't think about this bed because he's never sleeping in it."

Her fingers caressed his face and even in the dim light of the fire at the other end of the room, John could make out the hint of tears in Anna's eyes. "You're coming back to me, John Bates, because I refuse to be the Rothschild Widow. And as much as I like Henry Talbot, I won't be Mrs. Henry Talbot either."

John covered her hands with his. "Then I'll come back."

"Good." Anna kissed the backs of his hands. "Now, get some sleep. You've got work tomorrow and so've I. I won't have us tottering around like street mimes as we bungle our work."

"Yes Mrs. Bates."

The next few days were almost exactly like the first. John and Anna attended to their various affairs and obligations, meeting with their counterparts or possible future fellows in the industry. But John noticed the meetings felt different now.

Where once he could maintain his composure in a seat for hours, now he twitched. Imperceptible to the others around him but loud noises like the return ding on the typewriters, the occasional heavy book hitting a tabletop, and any loud engine motors. All of them made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end and more than once John found himself involuntarily flinching.

Anna noted it, during their dinners, and casually slid her hand over his when they met their guests in the sitting room before and after. When they sat across from one another at the table, her foot occasionally brushed his and John's shoulders lost a touch of tension. But he often excused himself to a dark closet just off the dining room or the sitting room and stood in the dark trying to lose himself in the sounds of breathing. Sometimes Anna joined him, even if for a moment, before she returned to manage their guests as efficiently as she managed their businesses.

Their nights grew worse as well. Once, when Anna left to see to Johnny, she returned to find John curled into a ball under the bed. She said nothing but dragged the overlarge duvet with her and crawled under to join him. They fell asleep there and complained to one another the next morning about soreness.

Another night, John woke screaming and clawing his way out of the sheets and barely missed Anna with a flailing arm. She kept back until he calmed and then seated them on the sofa near the fire in their room, cuddling close until the beat of her heart set the rhythm of his. They fell asleep there, John's tears drying in Anna's hair as he held tightly to her.

On still another night, John twitched and kicked himself out of bed. He woke up when he hit the floor and the noise startled Anna out of her deep sleep. She helped him into the washroom and checked for injuries before holding him as he sobbed there. They stayed on the floor until Anna's legs fell asleep and she urged them back to bed.

"Maybe we should get a new bed." Anna's voice brought John's head turning in her lap, her fingers shifting in his hair with the maneuver.

"What?"

"It's obviously the bed."

"It's…" John shook his head. "It doesn't feel right."

"Then we'll get a new one."

"No," John shook his head, sitting up. "It's too soft."

"Then I'll find something firmer."

"It's more…" John struggled to find the words. "When you're in the field, you've got to kip anywhere. You're sleeping on stiff cots, usually sagging in the middle, or on the ground. You're picking over rocks that dig into your back or trying to make a pillow from a tree stump."

"Do you want me to have you build me a bed, like Odysseus did for Penelope with an olive root for a leg so you can sleep on that?" Anna shrugged, "It might make other nightly activities a bit difficult but we'd learn to manage."

John shook his head again, pulling Anna close. "I just… I want to be whole. For you and Johnny."

"You will be."

"You're very confident."

"I know the man I married." She titled her head to look up at him. "Maybe not the way you were and maybe not as whole as you think you ought to be but you'd never abandon me. You'd never abandon us and you'll make yourself well through force of will if that's what it takes."

"What do they call extreme optimism in the dictionary these days?"

"They call it making the best of things." Anna grinned and kissed the underside of John's chin before making herself comfortable at his side. "And that's exactly what we'll do."

"If you're sure."

"I am." Anna sighed into him, "If you think you can manage some sleep I'd say you'd better get some. If not… Then just hold me until I doze off."

"I can do that."

John held her all night and, sometime in the small hours, he fell asleep as well. Sleep deep enough that Anna slipped out of his hold without his knowledge and left him a note on her pillow when he woke. His fingers crumpled the paper, the crinkling sound bringing him from a doze, and he blinked to clear his eyes enough to read her perfectly formed letters.

 _Mr. Bates,_

 _I've had to go in early to meet with Mr. Blake and Mr. Moseley. I know this is practically your last day and I'm sorry I couldn't sleep in with you. If you'd like, I'm taking a half day. We'll meet for lunch and perhaps take Johnny for a walk in the park. I think he'd like that… Especially if it's the same park where we walked once._

 _All my love,_

 _Anna_

John grinned and folded the note as he got himself ready. His uniform did not feel right for a family outing and he finally put all of Nanny's fears to rest when he agreed that she could accompany him in the motor with Johnny. What he did not expect was that she insisted on staying with them as they walked in the park after lunch. A walk that had John constantly looking over his shoulder at the woman as he pushed the pram.

"It's as if she thinks I'm going to tip this over into the pond." He hissed to Anna, who only laughed and wove her hands over his arm. "He is my son, after all, and I'm not going to hurt him."

"She's just protective." Anna smiled at the woman. "It's a good quality to have in one's employees."

"I don't disagree but…" John snuck another peek. "I just wish she didn't give me that expression, like she doubts my ability."

"You're probably the first man she's ever dealt with who's actually held his own child or insisted on taking any kind of active part in his life beyond teatime visits or the like." Anna sighed, "I happen to like it."

"So do I." John smiled at her, "I just wish I could stay longer."

"I wish that too." Johnny gurgled from the pram and Anna leaned over to kiss him. "And Johnny wants it just as much. But you are needed. And who knows, perhaps you'll be the one to help us win this infernal war."

"I doubt that."

"I don't." Anna put one of her arms through the crook of his and used the other as if announcing a headline. "Rothschild ends the war for the Empire."

"I wouldn't want that kind of announcement."

"Then what would you want, for being a war hero?"

"Just a kiss from my wife and one from my son."

Anna licked over her lips, "If we weren't in public I'd let you have both."

"I'll just ask for it later then."

Anna grinned at him but the expression fell as a woman approached them. "Oh bollocks."

"What?" John frowned and then recognized the woman as she stopped before them, a little out of breath. "Good afternoon Ms. Baxter."

"Afternoon my lord." She managed a half-curtsey of sorts before turning to Anna. "It's the Navy. Their man, Blake, took ill and they've sent someone else and he's just blustering his way through the offices demanding to see you."

"Do we really think that Mr. Blake took ill?"

Ms. Baxter shrugged, "Honestly I've no idea."

Anna sighed and turned to John, "Sorry to cut our afternoon short. I'll be back as soon as I can manage it."

"Don't worry. Branson'll get Nanny, Johnny, and I home and then bring me back around to get you shortly." John nodded at Ms. Baxter, "I wish this was under better circumstances."

"As do I." She smiled and waited for Anna to join her as John turned the pram around, almost knocking into Nanny.

"Sorry."

"Not a problem." She smiled and waited. John frowned and then stepped away from the pram. Her smile only tightened as she took hold of the pram, pushing it back toward the motor where Branson waited.

John suppressed a groan and followed her.

With Nanny insisting on doing all the work, an action that brought a shared eye roll from Mrs. Hughes, John merely changed his clothes. Andrew finished with him quickly before returning to packing the trunks for John's redeployment the day after next. John only allowed himself a peek at the trunks before climbing back into the motor for Branson to take him to the offices of AS Shipping.

"Want me to wait out here sir?"

"Yes, but you don't have to keep it running." John let himself into the building and met Ms. Baxter near the front. "Ms. Baxter, pleasure to see you again."

"And you my lord."

"Please," John held up a hand, "Call me 'Mr. Bates'. I wouldn't want anyone around here to get the wrong impression."

"But you are a Baron, sir."

"Here I'm just an investing partner." John nodded toward Anna's office. "Is she still up there?"

"With the new man the Navy sent." Ms. Baxter shook her head, "Detestable thing really."

"That the Navy sent someone new?"

"That they sent someone like him." Ms. Baxter shivered, "He gives me a bad feeling. The kind of feeling that… Like something oily ran over your skin."

John nodded, his jaw twitching, and took the stairs to Anna's office. He turned the knob on the door and opened it to see Anna putting both hands on the man's chest and pushing him away from her. When the man knocked Anna's hands away and grabbed for her again John saw red.

He could not say exactly what happened next but before he knew it Anna's voice broke through a fog and her hand in his coat yanked him back. John blinked, seeing his hands first, and stumbled back. Streaked with blood and blooming bruises on his knuckles, John turned his hands to see Anna. The expression in her eyes was not fear, exactly, but worry.

Her fingers relaxed on his arm and John finally turned to where a man sobbed on the floor. The visible parts of his face were a mask of red and purple as the door opened and Ms. Baxter and Mr. Moseley stumbled in. Both of them flustered and turned to Anna as John collapsed into one of the available chairs.

John tried to wipe at his hands, trembling and shaking as they were, and jumped when Anna put a hand on his shoulder. He followed her numbly to the car and barely heard anything she said to anyone on the way there or once in its confines. All was muffled silence and confusion in his brain so he barely registered anything until cold water ran over his hands.

"Don't jerk please." John blinked at Anna as she washed over his hands and noticed the blood was not his. The bruises, from impacts on the man's face, almost pulsed in their redness and he knew they would purple and darken before yellowing in a few days. "Your hands'll be sore for a bit."

"I know." John almost did not recognize his voice. He swallowed, to try and sound more like himself. "I boxed as a child."

"In a club or to keep away from anyone who teased you?"

"Both. The latter led to the former."

"Always a fighter." Anna pulled back from the water, turning it off and wrapping his hands carefully in a towel to dab him dry.

"I… That man…"

"Wasn't from the Navy." Anna met John's eyes. "That was Alex Green. He wormed his way into my office because he saw Mr. Blake leave on other business and made up a story that Ms. Baxter, in a rather ruffled state, believed."

"Green?" John frowned, "That man who tried to blackmail your virtue?"

"Yes." Anna shrugged, "It appears he's been discharged from the Army for an injury. Something I think was self-inflicted but I guess that's neither here nor there."

"What about the police?"

"I handled them." Anna took John's hands gingerly in hers, removing the towel. "You did the right thing John. Perhaps a bit more extremely than I would've liked but it was the right thing. You protected me from that man."

"I beat him nearly to death."

"You might've broken his nose, perhaps damaged an eye socket, and maybe even rearranged a few teeth but you didn't nearly kill him John." Anna sighed, leading him from the washroom to their bedroom. "I don't want you to-"

"I should leave tonight. Go back to my post. I'll be there by the morning and then all this'll blow over because I'm not here and-"

"John," Anna took hold of his face in her hands. "You'll not be leaving any earlier than you absolutely have to, do you understand?"

"But I-"

"Reacted to a problem. That's all." Anna's hands dropped a fraction as her shoulders did. "You're carrying all that weight on your shoulders… And I'm sure it makes you tired. Can't you just let it all go, for me?"

"How?" John tried to scoff but his emotions ran high and tears clouded his vision. "This isn't like dropping a bag. It's like exorcising a demon. One that gets stronger every day."

"Then we exorcise it together."

"How?"

"By being here, in this moment, together." Anna shifted forward, her hands dropping from John's face and he jumped when she opened his trousers. "We've not done this since you first got back."

"Anna-"

"Be here, John." Anna held his eyes as her hands unclothed him. "Be here."

She left her clothes in her spot on the sofa, like someone spirited out of them, and dropped to her knees before him. Her hands smoothed over his legs before pushing with just enough energy to leave space for herself between them. One of Anna's hands found his and interlaced their fingers while the other wrapped over his length and stroked smoothly along his arousal.

With each careful stroke John noted Anna's playful pace. It hardened and thickened him until John could not keep the little jerking movements from joining in her rhythm. Unlike the twitching tremors of his constant alert status, this arousal had John groaning and sighing into Anna's motions. Her other hand held fast to his while her eyes refused to leave him.

She bent forward and left kisses over his chest while her hand continued. Kisses and licks that left John shifting and adjusting his position on the sofa until Anna's mouth teased the base of his erection. Her tongue darted out with taunting licks until her complimented the strokes of her hand with those of her tongue. John's head fell back, almost knocking on the decorative back of the sofa, but jerked forward when Anna finally wrapped her lips around him.

The determination of her sucking struck a part of John's brain still attempting to engage in reality. The expression on Anna's face was one of focus but also of… sadness. In her attempt to keep him present and with her she exposed her fears. Not fears of him but fears of losing what made him. Fears they shared.

John tried to urged her up, tried to get her to face him, but Anna refused. She only sucked hard, teased with more force as her tongue wrapped him, and squeezed until John almost saw stars. His hand wrangled free of her grip and both grabbed her shoulders to force Anna up and away. They blinked at one another before John surged up to take her mouth in a kiss as passionate as it was hard, almost clashing their teeth together. But Anna joined him in it and fed the twinge of rage and fear and terror they shared when her hand tried to wrap around him again.

It only took a few steps to get them to the bed, their kisses and gasping breaths almost a battle in themselves, and when Anna's knees hit the back of the bed she made is if to drag John over her onto it. But John stopped her, holding her almost diagonally over the surface for a moment before turning Anna onto her stomach. His weight landed over her and his kisses ran the length of her back while his hands moved between Anna and the bed to hold her breasts before kneading them.

Anna writhed from her position, her ass pressing back between John's hips to encourage and rub along his arousal in whatever way she could. John growled and bit at her shoulder to bring Anna to face him. Their kiss clashed as before and John removed a hand from his play at her breasts to swat her ass so Anna squealed into their kiss before moaning as his fingers moved between her legs to move inside her.

She moaned and sighed into their kiss, breaking away to breathe and giving John free reign to kiss and lick over her back before dropping to his knees behind her and burying his face between her legs. His fingers worked faster, drove deeper, and his tongue wrapped harder around her clit until Anna clenched and came around him. Came until John could not lick anymore and forced himself to stand.

It took him a moment to control himself as Anna's hands clutched at the sheets under her. But once he could take a deep enough breath, John held Anna's hips and thrust forward. Her back arched and John kissed over her shoulders.

They moved together furiously. Anna responded to each cue John gave her, returning each motion with all the determination John used until he could not tell where he started and she ended. Or if they were the same primal creature pushing ferociously toward an end they rushed to reach with each frenetic action that left them grasping and gasping frantically until they ended together.

Anna slipped forward and John rolled to the side onto his back. His chest rose and caved until he could finally breathe easily and think clearly. John turned his head to see Anna, her eyes closed, smiling into the sheets. He reached a hand over and touched her shoulder.

"Are you alright?"

Anna opened her eyes, "I'm perfectly fine."

"Even after I… Took you?"

"Took me?" Anna frowned and pushed herself onto her forearms. "Did you think that I didn't enjoy it?"

"I worry that…" John sighed, "I'm not myself, Anna."

"I happened to like you without your inhibitions." Her hand found his, smoothing over his skin. "It was like you were back. Like you were free."

"But I-"

"Don't." Anna put her finger over John's lips. "Don't take that away from me John. Please don't take yourself away from me."

"I won't." He kissed her finger and Anna withdrew, "I promise."

"I want you to promise something else then." She scooted closer, "In your letters, when you write me, I want you to tell me when you're having your worries. Whenever you're not feeling well or whatever clouds your mind, I want to know."

"I can't tell you. They'll read about it and who knows what they'll do."

"Then we'll use code." Anna let her finger trace over his face. "Whatever words you want to use, tell them to me now and I'll know what to look for in your letters. I'll know when you need me."

"I always need you." John took a breath, "That'll never change."

"I know." Anna interlaced their fingers. "But what will you say?"

"I'll write about Ireland. Thinking about Ireland'll remind me of better things and tell you that I'm not thinking of better things." John turned fully onto his side and Anna matched him. "There's nothing I want to keep from you but I don't want you to worry."

"Of course I'll worry." Anna kissed him. "That's what wives do."

"Does that mean I'm allowed to worry about you too?"

"If it helps, then yes." Anna tucked her head between his chin and shoulder. "Worry about us all you wish and know that we'll be fine."

"If you say so."

"I do."


	16. House of Cards

Anna folded her hands over one another on the table, doing it again before jumping slightly as the door opened. Green stood there, shackles on his wrists, and he gave her a smile through the bruises as Anna shifted in her chair. The clink and clank of his wrists as the guard unlocked them gave Anna the noise she needed to scoot her chair just a fraction back from the table as the guard sat Green in the chair opposite her before standing in the corner.

She flicked her eyes toward the man before settling on Green. "What is it that you wanted, Mr. Green? I've got a business meeting in an hour and I can't miss it."

"Because you're acquiring my company?"

"I'd consider it an act of mercy for your employees who'll still have a job and not be out on the street when you inevitably went under." Anna pulled her hands off the table and folded them in her lap. "What do you want?"

"I want to put my fist into all the soft spots of your husband's body, that's what I want." He hissed at her before leering. "And then put something hard into your soft spot, if you get my meaning."

"Even if I didn't, I wouldn't want you to explain it to me." Anna swallowed, glancing toward the guard as he continued to stare forward. "Why did you ask for me to be here?"

"Because I want my revenge."

"I'm hardly the person to ask to get that for you."

Green snorted a laugh, running a hand through his hair. "True enough. You broke my wrist once, Ms. Smith, and I'll get my vengeance for that."

"It's _Mrs. Bates_ now, Mr. Green, as I'm sure you know." Anna raised an eyebrow, "And I'd wish you luck with your attempt but I doubt you'll get it from inside this little box."

"You underestimate what a will can do." Green shook his head, "I'll get what I want and no one'll be able to stop me."

"I wish you luck with that." Anna pushed her chair back and moved to the door but the guard stepped in her way. "Please let me by. I'm finished here."

"But I'm not." The scrape of Green's chair had Anna turning to face him.

She tried to control her breathing and swallowed, "Was there another empty threat you wanted to add to your list?"

Green only laughed and sauntered toward her as hands clamped on her arms. Anna struggled but the guard held her in place as Green approached. His finger stroked down the side of Anna's face and she shuddered under the touch. "How can you honestly say that old cripple makes you happy?"

"It made me very happy when he almost rearranged your complexion and he'll happily do it for you again if you and your accomplice don't let me go."

"I'm not afraid of a man a continent and the Channel away." Green nodded at the man behind Anna and an arm wrapped around her throat. "Sleep well."

Anna tugged at the man's arm, flailing to get her elbow back enough to jab into the man's side but black dotted her vision and her tried to stay conscious but all went dark. Sharp images, like dreams, percolated her consciousness and convinced her she was only sleeping. Just remembering a horrible incident from the comforts of her bed. Simply logging a memory to forget and never think of again. Moving forward from a mistake visit to Green in prison.

Blinking her eyes open, Anna frowned at the circle of faces around her. Ms. Baxter held one of her hands while a man with an impressive white mustache held her other wrist while consulting his watch. She frowned at the sight of constables and guards whispering in a huddle over by the door. A small movement oriented her to the wall staring at the table.

"What happened?"

"Mrs. Bates," Ms. Baxter almost sobbed with joy and went to help Anna sit up more fully until Anna grimaced in pain.

"Try not to move her until I've completed my investigation of her injuries Ms. Baxter." The man with the mustache leaned forward and gently pressed on Anna's neck but she recoiled. "Bruising on the throat around the two arteries. It's how they rendered you unconscious. A skill learned in Asia."

"Asia?"

"It's a chokehold from their martial arts." The man shrugged, "I've seen a few people use it in illegal boxing rings but the guard had served in the Boxer Rebellion. He might've learned it from a Chinese boxer there."

"My husband served there too."

"Governor," The man turned on his heels, still crouched with one knee up to support his arm. "I think we've found the connection between Mr. Craig and Mrs. Bates here."

"Mrs. Bates," The Governor came over and offered a hand before the man inspecting Anna shook his head. "My sincerest apologies. We'd no idea that Mr. Green had turned Mr. Craig to the other side of the law."

"The man, Craig, he's the one who…" Anna gingerly touched her throat and finally recognized the hoarseness to her voice. "What's he got against my husband?"

"We didn't think anything at all but if they were both in China fighting the Boxers than maybe something there?" The Governor shrugged, "We'll begin investigating that possibility immediately."

He and the other guards left with the constables to leave Anna alone with Ms. Baxter and the man. She turned to him, "May I have your name, sir?"

"Clarkson, Doctor Clarkson." He extended a hand and, with Ms. Baxter's help, lifted Anna to her feet. "Please stay at her side Ms. Baxter, I need to check she didn't hit her head on the fall."

Anna held to the edge of the table and frowned, "I was by the door."

"What?" Clarkson paused, "Could you repeat that, Mrs. Bates?"

"I was trying to leave. The guard, Craig, he blocked my path. He held my arms and then put his arm around my throat until I lost consciousness." Anna winced at her body tingled with pain. "How'd I end up over here? Why?"

"Perhaps so they could get out the door?" Baxter suggested but Anna shook her head, her mind and memories muddled.

"What time is it?"

"The Governor had someone check this room when you weren't out after fifteen minutes." Baxter held up Anna's case. "I was in the waiting room and knew you wanted to get to the meeting."

"Did we miss it?"

She nodded, "I had Mr. Moseley go instead. He'll manage it for you."

Anna bit back a groan and forced a smile. "I'm sure he'll do fine."

"Mrs. Bates," Clarkson's voice brought them both back to the moment as he came into their view. He bit at his lip before swallowing heavily. "I've some bad news that I don't think should leave this room."

"What?" Anna reached for Baxter and felt the woman's hand wrap with hers.

"There's blood, on your skirt. Not much and I wouldn't have noticed if I wasn't looking for a head injury or another injury from a possible fall but I don't think you fell. I think you were placed there."

"Placed there?"

Clarkson nodded and managed a deep breath, "I think you were… violated. I don't know by whom or…"

Anna sank to her knees and only the aid of Baxter kept her from hitting the floor again. She managed to get Anna into a chair and continued holding her hands as a wash of cold bloomed through Anna's body. A moment passed, all the while Anna feared she might faint, but she managed enough air to keep herself conscious and met Clarkson's eyes.

"You think he… assaulted me?"

"I think he raped you, Mrs. Bates. Hence why I think that should stay between the three of us."

"Which 'he' Doctor?" Baxter spoke up and Anna noted the strength of the woman's grip. "Could you tell?"

"From what I know, Mr. Craig is on a very intensive medical regimen that wouldn't allow for him to…" Clarkson coughed, "I shouldn't say, it violated doctor-patient privilege, but now that it couldn't have been Mr. Craig."

"But he stood by." Anna forced herself to swallow and breathe, the mechanical maintenance of the normally instinctually motions helping her to regulate herself enough to get past the part of her brain screaming like a wounded animal. "He helped and he watched."

"It's possible but I'm no detective."

Anna nodded, "They've men looking for them?"

"Yes."

"Good." Anna stood, leaning heavily on Baxter. "Then you're right. That information need not leave this room. The three of us will manage it and, if necessary, take the information to our graves."

"Doctor-patient confidentiality." Clarkson nodded before turning to Baxter. "Please get her home. A warm bath should soothe her bruises and muscles. She'll still be stiff and sore but she's not got a concussion or any head injuries so she should be safe to leave on her own is necessary."

Baxter nodded and led Anna from the room.

They passed through the prison and out into the light. It almost blinded Anna and she covered her eyes before the darkness of the rear of the car swallowed her. She kept silent and allowed Baxter to give Branson the instructions for home. Kept quiet until Baxter gave charge of Anna over to Mrs. Hughes.

That was when Anna cried.

She sobbed in Mrs. Hughes's arms as the woman helped her into the washroom. They avoided the others in the house, locking the door so Mrs. Hughes could help Anna undress. Barely noting the bruises dotting her body, covering herself under a dressing gown before she could, Anna waited for the water in the bath to reach a scalding temperature and sank into it.

The water steamed and burned but once anna emerged, the redness to her skin temporarily hid the bruises. She burned her clothes in the fire in her room, watching the flames lick over the material, and barely touched the food Mrs. Hughes brought her. In fact Anna did not speak until Mrs. Hughes brought Johnny to her. Then she spoke only to him with a high-pitched voice that feigned a joy she could not find in herself.

"Anna," Mrs. Hughes's voice broke there and Anna adjusted Johnny in her arms, noting the boy was now fast asleep against her. "Should I put him down for you? Or bring in Nanny?"

"No, I'll do it." Anna stood and stopped, noting a trace of blood on the sofa. "Mrs. Hughes…"

The woman came over and nodded. "I'll get some of the peroxide. It'll clean that right out." She paused and held the edge of Anna's dressing gown. "And I'll get Mrs. Harding to see what she can do about this. Otherwise I'll just have some cloths ready. The ones we'd use for your monthlies should do until… Until the bleeding stops. They work on your-"

"Thank you." Anna cut her short, kissing Johnny's forehead as he squirmed in his sleep in her arms. She put him down and watched him sleep until Nanny entered the room. The shadows prevented the other woman noticing anything and Anna hurried past her back to her room to see Mrs. Hughes finishing scrubbing the sofa. "You didn't have to-"

"Best keep the facts between as few people as possible." Mrs. Hughes capped the bottle. "Have they found the man?"

"I don't know."

"Do they even know where to look?"

"Not sure if they're aware of the right Hellmouth that would take him." Anna went to her wardrobe and extracted her pajamas, carefully maneuvering into a pair of knickers lined with a cloth before changing. "I… I'd ask you not to tell anyone. Not even Mr. Carson, if you can help it."

"He already knows the bastard's broken out of prison. Most do since the police want the public on alert."

Anna nodded and pulled a thicker dressing gown around herself as she shivered. "But the rest of it-"

"Stays between you, me, Ms. Baxter, and the good doctor who examined you." Mrs. Hughes approached Anna, her fingers running over the bottle. "But I've a question, about Mr. Bates."

"He can't know." Anna shook her head almost violently. "He'd try to come back here and he's only just had leave a few months ago. He'd go AWOL and they'd hunt him down. Besides, he'd kill Green and then it wouldn't matter. I'd be watching my husband swing from the nearest noose."

"But Anna… What if you're with child?"

Anna swallowed hard, "Then… I'd kill myself."

"Anna." Mrs. Hughes put down the bottle and rag, holding at Anna's arms for a second but releasing the moment Anna tensed. "You can't."

"I can't bear that man's child."

"And what about the child you already bore? What about the husband you bore him for? Would you leave them?"

"Would you have me risk John's life? Or Johnny being orphaned by the death of his father when the hangman came for him? Or me being accused of being unfaithful to my husband? Or him being tormented as a cuckhold?" Anna shook her head, "I won't do that to him."

"You think he could bear his death?"

"Better than my shame." Mrs. Hughes went to speak again but Anna held up a hand. "I need to sleep. And possibly rectify whatever damage Mr. Moseley inadvertently caused when he tried to close that deal today."

"Anna…"

"That's all Mrs. Hughes." Anna folded her arms over her chest. "There's nothing more to be done."

She opened her mouth to speak one more time but closed it and nodded. "If that's what you wish."

"I do." Anna waited until Mrs. Hughes left before crawling onto her bed. The bed she shared with John. The bed she could not sleep in.

Instead she stole from her room and snuck into Johnny's room. He still slept soundly in his crib and Anna took to the bed next to it. She reached through the bars and found his hand so his fingers could curl around one of hers.

"Mummy doesn't want to leave you." Anna whispered in the dark. "She'd never want to leave you."

She fell asleep like that.

It took a few days but Talbot finally came to see her. In a uniform that indicated nothing about his work or which branch of the military he worked for, he took a seat opposite her desk after ensuring the door was locked. Anna barely raised an eyebrow and ignored Talbot's glance at the full breakfast tray on the table in her study. He coughed and put on a smile for her.

"How are you Mrs. Bates?"

"I do hope you didn't take your delicate leave from whatever secret project keeps you busy to ask after my health." Anna signed a paper and laid it on top of a pile before pulling a design toward her. "I'm not worth more than a note if that's why you're here."

"Then you underestimate your value to me."

Anna paused, her fingers ticking at the corner of the design. "Are you here to tell me my husband is dead and you'd like to marry me before he's cold?"

Talbot snorted, "John told you then?"

"He did, when he was here on leave."

"The I guess, should that need arise, I'll dispense with the pretense." Talbot settled more comfortably in his chair. "I'm curious why I find you here instead of your office at the docks."

"The police are worried that Mr. Green might go back there."

"And he wouldn't come here?"

"He was seen watching my former residence and, if you'd noticed, Mr. Branson's got a few friends from the rougher side keeping watch at this house." Anna motioned toward the window and Talbot strained to see out of it. "They'll keep me as safe as houses."

"Irish bruisers usually do." Talbot nodded and settled in his chair again. "But I don't think you'd be cowed by Mr. Green being on the loose."

"No?"

"You weren't cowed when the man tried to use your virtue against you." Talbot shrugged at Anna's surprise. "John tells you everything and he tells me almost the same things. I can't protect you if he keeps secrets."

"Then why weren't you watching Mr. Green?"

"How do you think he ended up in prison after John bashed his face in?" Talbot nodded at Anna's open mouth. "I happened to find enough to get him in there and get John off. That's my job and I did it. I just didn't see Craig coming."

"Did he know John?"

"Craig served in a regiment under John. John caught him… violating the local women. It got him a discharge and sent back here. That's where, when he tried it again, he agreed to the medical castration experiments instead of taking a prison sentence." Talbot shook his head, "The irony of him then working at a prison."

"Do you think it's a coincidence that he and Green were in the same place?"

"No, I don't." Talbot templed his fingers. "The military is a fraternity. One that, even when you're kicked from it like the rabid dog you are, still holds a bit of responsibility for you. Rumors fly and I think my stepping in on John's behalf might've tipped the scales against John in the end."

"You think your work in getting Green in prison aroused Craig's suspicions and had him track Green down?"

"To his detriment it seems." Talbot nodded when Anna frowned. "I'm here because they found Craig this morning."

"Dead?"

"Half-dead." Talbot extracted something from an interior pocket and handed it over to Anna. "This was his confession, as taken by the constable that found him."

Anna's frown only deepened as she unfolded the paper to read it. When she finished she set it down and swallowed. "Who else saw this?"

"Only his superior. Both of whom suddenly found themselves transferred to different climes with higher pay." Talbot waved off Anna's objections. "I told you, when I heard the first rumors about you, I'm here to protect John's investments."

"I'm still not comfortable being called that."

"Then consider me the hand in the dark." Talbot stood. "Mr. Craig is dead now. He'll be buried in a pauper's grave with nothing and no one to remember him. He's nothing anymore. Not that he was much to begin with but-"

"He was someone's child." Anna sighed and leaned back in her chair, "Do you think there's a mother out there who looks at her child and thinks, 'I've birthed a monster'?"

"No." Talbot sighed, "What I know, Mrs. Bates, I'll take to the grave."

Anna focused on her fingers, pulling at them in her lap, "Will you tell John?"

"I should, as I tell him everything, but this…" The pause had Anna raising her head to see him shake his. "This isn't my secret to share. And given that I'm now one of… seven people who knows it, it's not so much a secret as information now. Information I'm going to make sure has no value."

"Thank you."

Talbot clicked his heels and saluted. "Ma'am."

Anna stood, laughing at his drama, and returned the salute. "Major."

He left and Anna leaned on her desk. Chewing on her cheeks a moment had her moving to the window. With her arms folded over her chest, she watched Branson's men keep their eyes on Talbot and his driver until they pulled out of the lane before they went back to scanning the scene.

"Mr. Carson?" Anna called and turned to the man when he entered the room. "Please have Branson ready the car. I need to go to the office."

She grabbed the confession from the desk and skimmed over it once more before tossing it into the fire. "And have Mrs. Hughes ready my things please."

The ride was no different than any other day, except for the chill over the water from the winter refusing to give up its grip on the land even in the face of the oncoming spring. Anna wrapped her coat around her a little tighter as a chill tried to bite at her bones between the car and the office. An office that welcomed her by not noticing her existence as she moved through the familiar noises to Blake's office.

A peek in showed him hard at work on a sketch but that was all Anna allowed herself before checking in on Moseley and Baxter. Both of them busied themselves with their obligations until Anna knocked her knuckles lightly against the doorframe. They both jumped and immediately set to trying to make her comfortable but Anna waved them off. She only needed the details of the recent business before going up to her office.

The office where she opened the door to see Green waiting for her at her desk. Anna's hand clutched at the door and she blinked furiously to try and sort out what she saw before her. But he did not vanish when she pinched herself and brought up a gun when Anna opened her mouth.

"I wouldn't say anything, if I were you."

Anna swallowed and tightened her grip on the doorknob. "What are you doing here?"

"Hiding, obviously." The shallowness of his skin, the hags under his eyes, and the way his flesh stretched over his bones to complement the tremors in his hands signaled his lack of decent food and water. "I've been here since I dumped Craig."

"In the Thames." Anna closed her eyes, "You were both hiding here."

"We'd hoped to kill you quietly but things got out of hand at the prison and… Well, Craig wanted to kill you right off but I wanted to have my fun first." Green only shrugged and sluggishly moved his legs off the desk. "I guess I cocked that up but he wouldn't let it lie."

"So you killed him?"

"It was in the past and no amount of bellyaching would change that." Green leaned on the desk, still holding the gun. "Think it took?"

"What?"

"Think it took?" He nodded toward Anna's abdomen and she covered it.

"Why?"

"Just want to know if there'll be a part of me running around in the world after all this." Green risked a step forward, still leaning on the desk. "A bit of me for you to remember forever."

"I'd die first."

"Probably for the best." Green leered at her before coughing. "But think, you'd never be rid of me."

"I'll never think of you again after today." Anna went to take a step back but Green raised the gun. "If you shoot then they'll find you. In your condition you'll never get away. It's back to a cell or to the noose for you now. Probably the latter given what you did to Craig."

"You think the world gives a damn about Craig?"

"I think the Governor of that prison'll want to make an example." Anna held herself higher. "And if you try to blackmail me or something ridiculous like that you'll be sorely mistaken. I'll not help you get away from what's coming for you."

"Won't you?" Green risked a step forward but stumbled.

Anna reacted. She leapt forward and grabbed for the man's wrist. They struggled but her grip was stronger and she forced the gun off line. It went off, the shot blasting past her ear to temporarily deafen her. The surprise of the shot distracted her and Green's weak fist impacted the side of her head.

A ringing in her ears had anna stumbling into a chair. She put her hands over her ears, trying to think clearly through the blurring of her vision, and noted flames licking at the edge of the room. The hissing of the gas from the light line caught Anna's distorted hearing and she scrambled back for the door. Something grabbed for her but anna kicked back hard. As she got through the door she saw Green tumble over, her strike hitting true between his legs, and he fell to the floor as the gas line caught.

The force of the explosion rocked the office and forced Anna down the stairs. She landed hard on the floor with her shoulders and blinked through the insanity of the moment to see her office as no more than flying wood and a burning husk. Hands grabbed for her and helped her stand as she limped away from the building with all those running for their lives. They landed outside in the shuffle and scuffle before the entire building rocked with another explosion as the gas lines in the entire building took it up in flames.

Anna watched the burning, caught in the beauty of the flames despite the volunteer fire department's best efforts to try and save the building. Baxter and Moseley sat with her in the car while Blake leaned on the outside and explained the incident to the constables taking statements from all those gathered around to watch the spectacle. Tracing her fingers over the seat, Anna finally spoke.

"Not how my father saw me getting out of the business."

"Insurance'll cover the rebuilding and we've got the smaller location for the interim." Baxter hurried to say, her fingers still shaking as she tried to keep her voice even. "We'll keep all the employees and we've saved up enough that we could immediately buy another location to keep the work going."

"Are we sure that's wise?" Anna turned to her but Blake answered.

"The Royal Navy would take it badly if you didn't."

"Not sure the Navy did me any good when the man who caused it all was sitting in my office waiting for me."

"It was rather convenient." Anna blinked at Blake but he only raised his hands in surrender. "To have him just waiting for you."

"I'll be sure to make a list of all the ways that was inconvenient for me." Anna rested her head back on the seat. "Do what you think best, Ms. Baxter. We'll get it all up and moving as quickly as we can."

"Yes ma'am." She and Moseley left the car, taking Blake with them as Branson returned to the driver's seat.

"Ready to take me home Branson? And let me pay those men we won't need guarding the house any longer?" He did not answer, just turned to her with a tight jaw. "What's wrong Branson?"

"It's Mr. Bates, ma'am. He's been injured. There's a telegram that he's at hospital now."

"Then we need to go to him now." Anna noted how Branson did not move. "Was I unclear about the alacrity with which we need to move now?"

"I should warn you, as per Mr. Talbot's instructions."

Anna groaned, "Of course he knew first." She threw up her hands, "What should I know before I go and comfort my husband?"

"He's lost his right leg ma'am."

Anna could only blink, "Get me to hospital now and I don't care how fast you have to go to do it."


	17. Spring Every Year Without You

The constant haze had him batting at the pole holding the bottle he knew pumped him full of morphine. His fingers, sluggish and useless, flailed to try and rip the line from the bottle. Another hand covered his and he blinked but the blurriness to his vision kept him from seeing clearly. When he tried to speak his words only slurred and all he could do was sob at his inability to do anything for himself. A grown man rendered back to babyhood by a needle in his arm.

Vague voices wafted about him, the distance and distinction ebbing and flowing. He could not tell if it was because they were moving or because he was. The general eddies of sound and sensation left him alternating between completely lax and twitching uncontrollably until he fell to the appeal of the complete darkness once again. A darkness where he stayed until a familiar voice urged him back. Beckoned him to return to the land of the living.

"John? John ole' boy. Come on. Wake up."

He cracked his lids and saw the brilliant smile of Talbot above him. "Henry?"

"As you left me." He put a hand on John's shoulder. "You pulled through marvelously. The doctors are proud of your work. They thought they almost lost you but you hung on. I knew you would."

"Hung on?" John frowned, his tongue thick in his mouth. "Water?"

"Of course." Talbot vanished from John's tunneled vision and returned with a glass he pressed gently to John's lips while a hand went behind John's head to raise him up enough to drink and not choke. "Easy does it now. No need to test if they did their very best just yet."

"Best?" John blinked and, as Talbot removed the cup, noted the dip in the sheets where the rest of his right leg should be. "Henry?"

"What?" Talbot turned and then cringed, "I was-"

"Robert," John clutched at Talbot's arm, digging his fingers in tightly enough that Talbot grimaced. "Is he-"

"He's fine." Talbot pried John's fingers loose from his arm and shook it out before helping John sit up a bit on the bed. "You're the one who saved him. You fell on him and that stopped him getting any of the blast. Your leg, on the other hand…"

"Has Anna been?" John tried to ease his breathing, his chest tightening with each quickening breath. "Has she seen me?"

"She's on her way now." Talbot took his chair, resting on the edge of it. "But she's had her own adventures. Ones that I'm sure you should both exchange back and forth like greeting cards at Christmas."

"What happened?"

Talbot opened his mouth to speak but the door burst open and Anna, fending off two nurses and a doctor, entered. She saw John and immediately covered her mouth with her hand as if that might stop the sobs that erupted. In a second she crossed the room and had her arms flung around his shoulders to hold him as her body shook from the force of her tears. John could only wrap his arms around her and hold her close.

"I'm… alright." John managed and Anna pulled back enough to wipe at her tears and shake her head. "I'm alright."

Anna shook her head more vigorously, "I told you, it's alright to say you're not if you're not."

"I…" John peeked at Talbot, who nodded and shooed the argumentative doctor and his accomplice nurses out of the room. "I'm fine."

"You're missing your leg, John." Anna peeked down, "Or most of it."

"Yes I…" John's voice caught and he coughed. "I'm… I'm missing my leg."

"I know." Anna put her hand through his, her thumb rubbing over the back of it. "I know you are."

"I'm missing my… My leg is… I can't…" John floundered, his other hand flexing as if to reach for his leg but stopping himself. "Why can I still feel it? Why do I have an itch on a knee that's not there anymore? Why can I… How do…"

Anna maneuvered onto the bed and held him close as John's body shuddered and the realization of his position set in. Over the morphine still in his system to numb the reality of the pain. Over the sight of Anna. Over whatever Talbot told him about Anna's recent troubles. Over everything but the simple fact that his leg was no longer attached to his body like it should be.

Time proved its illusion when John finally ran out of tears. Anna still held him, adjusted to stretch herself along his length on the bed so his head sat on her shoulder and she could press kisses to his head. Her fingers wove themselves gently through his hair as if trying to calm him but she made no move to stop his tears before he did.

"Water?" John whispered and Anna stretched her arm to reach around and find the cup Talbot used earlier.

"I suspect your body's confused." Anna held the cup in place until John trusted his hands enough to hold it for himself. "Whatever they've got feeding through this line into you, the phantom sensations, and then all those tears. No wonder you're thirsty."

"Thank you." John handed the glass back and Anna replaced it next to his bed. "Where's Johnny?"

"With Nanny." Anna shrugged, "I came right here."

"From…" John sniffed, the smell finally registering, and noted the soot streaking Anna's clothes. "From a fire?"

"That's a long story." Anna tried to shush John but he grabbed her hand. "Whatever you're worried about, I'm fine."

"Are you?"

"Of course." The smile Anna forced to her face did not reach her eyes and only stretched her lips "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Because you told me it's alright not to be. In this room. And in our washroom when I wasn't fine the last time I saw you." John interlaced their fingers. "Please tell me if you're not."

"But after all you've gone through. After…" Anna's hand limply waved toward John's missing leg.

"It'll keep my mind off a knee that can't possibly itch because it no longer exists." John gave a little snort, the dark humor settling on him. "Well, it exists somewhere, just not on me anymore."

"John." Anna shoved a bit at his shoulder and gave a little laugh.

"I knew a man, in China, who lost his arm and constantly used his prosthetic to make jokes about the situation."

"I'd rather you not do that." Anna sighed, "Why is it that handling the problems of another are more difficult than trying to confront your own?"

"Because you can't lie to yourself about them." John played his fingers over hers. "Perhaps we can take our problems and crack them against one another. Like we didn't want to do to Henry and your Mr. Blake."

"He's not mine."

"Well," John shrugged, "All the same."

"I'm…" Anna cleared her throat, "If I tell you then I have to face it. I have to face all of it and I've been avoiding it quite marvelously up to this point."

"You told me to tell you when I was having nightmares. When I was struggling even when I was too far for you to hold me." John met Anna's eyes. "I do hope you won't deny me the same chance to help you. To be here for you when I can hold you."

"I didn't even have time to write you about it."

"Then better to tell me now."

Anna nodded, closing her eyes for a moment, and started speaking before her eyes opened again. "I went to see Green in prison."

"Why?"

"He claimed to have proof of charges he'd press to you when he finally got a judge to hear his case over everything else."

"Everything else?"

"Apparently your Mr. Talbot isn't averse to finding whatever he needs to bury those he thinks might harm his investment." Anna shrugged a shoulder, "Not that I minded much in this case since it got Green into prison but…"

"And you went to see him?"

"I did." Anna's fingers clutched more tightly on John's hand and she focused there instead of on his face. "I thought I could handle it. I thought it would be simple and easy and there'd be nothing to facing a man in shackles."

John stiffened, "But?"

"But the guard removed them. He stayed in the room and, again, I thought I was safe." Anna swallowed hard enough to make John believe she might have an Adam's apple. "The guard's name was Craig."

John frowned, "Did he serve in China." Anna nodded and John closed his eyes a second. "He got a job in a prison? After what he did in China?"

"Apparently they had him on an experimental medical regimen that ensured he could not harm women and he was in a men's prison so…" Anna sighed, shaking her head. "He was found dead just two days ago so he's no one's concern now."

"What did he do?"

"He incapacitated me. Used a chokehold to render me unconscious and then…" Anna closed her eyes and the tears leaked down in rivulets. "He watched as Green… He stood by when Green used me."

"And Green?"

"Escaped, to hide in my office at the shipping company."

John fingered Anna's blouse, "Which burned down, I'll hazard."

Anna nodded, "I came to in the cell and the only people who knew what happened were myself, Ms. Baxter, and the doctor who made sure I wasn't hurt. Then I told Mrs. Hughes and she insisted I tell you but…"

"But?"

"But how could I?" Anna dissolved to tears, taking her hand from John's to wipe at her eyes. "How could I write you and have you come back just to face the noose when you inevitably found and killed Green?"

"It would've been worth it."

"Not to me." Anna shook her head hard enough to loosen her carefully coifed hair. "Never to me."

"And he waited in your office?"

"Hid there after he killed Craig."

"Did Craig die immediately?" Anna shook her head with a little less vigor this time and John frowned. "Then others might know-"

"The constable and his superior, who took Craig's dying confession, are in other placements now… Thanks to Mr. Talbot." Anna wiped at her eyes. "But he knows. Promised he wouldn't tell you but he knows."

"He'll take that secret to his grave."

"I've no doubt." Anna managed a shaky breath. "I burned what I think was the only copy of the confession so no one else'll read it."

"But what about Green in your office?" John tried to puzzle it out. "How did he hide there so long?"

"I worked from my home office. I couldn't…" Anna swallowed, "I couldn't face Ms. Baxter. She saw me so vulnerable and distressed. She… I know she's a good woman and I trust her completely but I couldn't… I couldn't face her. Not after what happened to me. Not after what she knew happened."

"How long was Green hiding there?"

"A few days, at least." Anna finally gave a snort of laughter but the caustic nature of it rubbed at John the wrong way. "Long enough that he was starving. Starving so he couldn't hold the gun he aimed at me on line."

"He fired at you?"

"He tried." Anna pointed to one ear. "It fired past my ear, temporarily took my hearing, and hit the gas pipe. Somehow, in the scuffle, he knocked a candle or whatever he used for light in my office while I wasn't there and it caught. The entire office blew apart and, from what the police tell me, killed him."

"They found his body?"

Anna nodded, "They thought I did it. Thought I killed him for what he did to me and would've arrested me if not for Mr. Blake."

"Mr. Blake to the rescue?"

"Shocking I know." Anna managed another breath. "But that's not what worried me… About telling you."

"You worried about telling me?"

"When he was still a wanted man I worried you'd come back, risk your commission and a court marshal and possible prison to kill him yourself. But now…" Anna swallowed hard again and John grabbed for her hand, trying to comfort her. "Now I worry about what he might've left behind."

"What do you mean?"

Anna moved their joined hands to her abdomen, "It's not been long enough to tell one way or the other but he could've…"

"You could have his child?"

"Yes." Anna dropped their hands but John did not loosen his grip. "The timing, even if only seven people… Eight now, I guess, know the truth means that everyone would know the baby's not yours. You'd be cuckolded or shamed. Either way I'm… My shame's got nowhere to hide."

"But you don't know that you've even carrying his child."

"But if I am… The dishonor and-"

"If you say 'shame' again I won't have it." The brusqueness of John's tone stopped Anna continuing. He calmed after a moment, closing his eyes for a deep breath, and focused on her. "There's no shame in this Anna. You survived. He's dead and you're not. Whatever happened, you didn't succumb to it. There's no shame in this for anyone but that dead bastard, may he rot in Hell."

"John…" Anna almost groaned, her fingers tugging at his hand. "Don't you see? Can't you see it?"

"See what?"

"That I'm spoiled for you? That he's ruined me?"

"No," John shook his head, repeating it louder when Anna tried to argue. "No, I won't have you saying that."

"Even when it's true?"

"No, because it's a dirty lie." John eased his fingers out of hers and managed the awkward shift onto to bring his hands on either side of her face. "You're not spoiled. Nothing could ever spoil you for me."

"Nothing?"

"Nothing and no one." John held her gaze, "You're made higher and holier to me because of the suffering you've been put through. Because of what you've endured and done despite what happened."

Anna clutched at John's hands, the tears starting again.

"You're my wife and I've never been prouder of you than in this moment."

"Truly?"

"Truly." John maneuvered as much as he could given the constraints of the bed and his missing limb to tuck Anna to his side. She took the position and folded herself next to him. "I hope they let you stay here. For tonight at least."

"They'd need something stronger than just their hands to get me to leave you." Anna burrowed into his side. "I'll not leave for anything."

John kissed her forehead, his arm wrapping around her. He glanced down and chuckled loud enough for Anna to tip her head up. "Sorry."

"What is it?"

"It's just…" John nodded toward his missing leg. "You could fit better now. There's more room for you."

Anna giggled into his hospital gown, putting her hand over his heart. He covered it in an instant and held it there. Held onto her.

The room grew quiet and John feared Anna fell asleep so he spoke to the presumed silence. "What'll Johnny do?"

"What?" The groggy tone to Anna's voice had John biting his tongue.

"I didn't mean to wake you."

"You didn't, not really." Anna raised herself up enough that they could look at one another. "What did you just say?"

"Just that…" John tried to shake his head but Anna's hand forced him to look at her. "I thought I wasn't going to be a good father to Johnny when I had two working legs and nightmares. What happens when I've got a missing leg and nightmares? What good am I to him then?"

"You're his father." Anna almost clicked her tongue off her teeth at him. "And he needs you. He loves you almost as much as I do."

"When I thought I was broken before, I didn't realize I'd snap like the tin soldier from a Hans Christian Andersen story."

"I do hope you're not about to repeat your foolishness about being broken."

John pointed at his missing leg. "I'm not sure how much more broken I can be than that."

"You're only as broken as you think you are." Anna ran a hand carefully to what used to be the just above John's knee but now represented the end of his leg. "I'm not saying it won't be hard. But they've got prosthetics they're making better every day. You won't be Long John Silver hopping around on a crutch."

"I haven't got a parrot."

Anna feigned a pout, "Would I need to get you one, to feel the part?"

"No."

"Then you're only as broken as you'll let yourself be." Anna paused, her hand still on the remains of his leg. "If you think you're broken, then you've got to think I'm broken too. It's only fair."

"I already told you-"

"Then we'll have to acknowledge that we're both only as broken as we'll let ourselves be." Anna met John's eyes, looking in them. "We've both… Endured things we wish had never happened. Things we wish never happened to those we loved. But they did happen John and now we've got to live with that. To live with who we are now. With who we'll decide we'll become now."

"What a scandal we make eh?" John attempted a smile and it grew when Anna matched it. "Me with a missing leg and you… Possibly carrying the baby of a dead man. We couldn't make this up if we tried."

"I'm sure it would've made the papers even faster if you'd had the chance to confront and kill Green so at least we've not got to worry on that account."

"I know what I'd have liked to do to him… Had I known." John swallowed, his fingers interlacing with Anna's. "But I couldn't do it."

"What?"

"I know." John nodded, "I've served in two wars and I'm trained to kill. I know how to do it and I did it well… Until stealth proved the least of my problems."

"Stop. You'll just clack when you walk now."

"Thanks very much." They giggled a bit before John shushed them. "But I couldn't have done it. Even if all the conditions had been right and I'd had him right there I couldn't do it."

"Why not?"

"Because then I'd get taken from you." John managed a breath. "I'd have to say why if I wanted to try and be freed and that'd put you at risk. And if I stayed silent I'd hang, no question. And you…"

He struggled to find the words and the breath to utter them as tears, so familiar now, blurred his vision again. "You told me that Johnny needed me. That you needed me. And I could never leave either of you. Not for anything. Not for anyone. No matter what happened I'd never leave you."

Anna held to him, hiding her face in the crook of his neck and John felt tears dotting his skin there. She shook against him, her sobs audible despite the muffling effect of his skin. John held at her for a few moments but her tears did not abate.

"Anna?" He moved her so he could look at her, his thumbs wiping at her tears. "What is it?"

"I… I thought about…" Anna wiped at her eyes, still leaking tears as if to spite her efforts. "I thought about what I'd do, if I found I was pregnant. I thought you'd still be in France and I worried… I worried about your reputation if your wife was found pregnant. I couldn't have you be a cuckold and I couldn't… I couldn't bear his child so… I told Mrs. Hughes that I'd kill myself if I were pregnant."

"You'd what?"

Anna nodded, her fingers still trying to deter the tear tracks on her cheeks. "I couldn't… I couldn't do it. I couldn't bear that child without you knowing. I couldn't have his baby."

"Anna." John covered her hands and Anna, impossibly, cried harder. "You could never do that."

"I know." She tried to breathe and John quieted her from trying to speak until she evened her breathing. "I slept, that night, in Johnny's room. I thought that would make me forgive myself for the thoughts I had and I realized how wrong I was. I couldn't leave that boy. I couldn't leave you."

Anna finally blinked enough tears away for John to see her eyes clearly. "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I almost left you. After all my talk about you and your nightmares and needing to stay with us and then I almost-"

"Hey," John soothed her, his fingers light on her face as they removed the traces of tears from her cheeks. He stared into her eyes for a moment before smiling, "You're still here."

Anna frowned, "Of course I am."

"No, I mean," John looked into her eyes, "You're still here, right where I left you. Right there, behind all of this. You're still here."

"I see you too." Anna put her forehead to his, "Right here, with me."

"Right where you left me." John tipped his head back, eyes flicking to Anna's lips. "I'd like to kiss you now, if I can."

Anna just stared at him and then closed the distance herself. They broke apart after a second and John sighed. Her fingers edged into his hair. "We could do better than that."

"Just be gentle with me." John nodded at his missing leg again, "I'm not the man I used to be anymore."

"Well I'm not the woman I used to be anymore either." Anna scooted closer, "But I think this old cripple'll still make me very happy."


	18. Six Impossible Things

Anna shuffled through John's trunks with Andrew, trying to sort through the clothes and materials for storage or donation. She paused, the back of her hand going to her forehead, and sighed. "Did he always have this much… bric-a-brac?"

"One does tend to collect things over time." Andrew shrugged and pointed to another trunk. "That might be easier. It's mostly his uniforms from the front."

"Will he need to keep his uniforms?"

"Even if he does, I need to mend all of his trousers." Andrew paused, cringing, "I'm sorry if that's-"

"We all know he lost most of his leg and we can't have him tripping over them or getting them caught in his prosthetic." Anna bent down to open the trunk and struggled with the lid. "Or, if he can't get the prosthetic he needs, then we'll need something that won't drag on the ground or get in the way of his crutch."

She tried again and then then grunted. "Bugger."

"Ma'am?"

"Sorry Andrew." Anna pointed at the trunk, "I think it's jammed."

"Hold on." He edged toward the trunk and Anna took a step back to allow Andrew the room to pry the lid open. After a second of struggle he kicked the catch with his heel and the lid popped open to knock back. The noise had them both jumping a little before giving nervous laughs about their response.

Andrew winced, "Sorry about that ma'am."

"Not a problem." Anna took her place again and Andrew moved back to sorting John's clothes from the other trunks.

The quiet settled with the occasional shift of fabric or objects as they continued their work in comfortable silence. Anna bent further over the trunk before moving to her knees to shift through the contents a bit more easily. She moved the uniforms, wrinkled her nose at the musty scent that permeated from a chewed out corner that leaked into the base of the trunk, and almost dropped a metal box that slipped from between a stack of uniforms. Anna barely caught the edge with her fingers and immediately corrected her hold, tumbling the uniforms into a disorganized pile on the floor. Sighing as she bent to correct the mistake, the box slipped from Anna's grasp as the slick surface surprised her in an attempt to catch it a second time. She failed and it knocked the floor sideways to pop the lid open on its spring-catch.

Suppressing an exasperated sigh as she folded the uniforms quickly to tuck away, Anna wiped her hands and grabbed the box to move it to a pile for closer inspection later. But the lid did not close. She tried again but the fall broke one of the springs and bent the thin metal lid to stop her simply closing the box again. With a groan, Anna allowed the lid to stay popped open and almost put it aside but stopped at the sight of the paper inside. Her fingers brushed over the top sheaf and pulled it from the box to read her handwriting. The writing of the last letter she sent to John on the battlefield and, tucked inside, a pencil sketch of her.

Adjusting her position on the floor, crossing her legs carefully in the skirt of her dress, Anna tipped the box over to sort the contents. Her nimble fingers stopped the tipping pile of letters from falling over as she organized them. When her knuckles dinged against the metal box for the third time, she shoved the box toward the pile assembled for the dustbin or the rubbish heap and addressed the letters. They were all the ones she sent to John in the field, with each holding a sketch of her reflecting the images she evoked in the letters she wrote.

They were all different. Some were everyday scenarios they wished they shared as a married couple. The scenarios Anna described in detail at John's behest or his dreams written for her to imagine for when he returned. A few of them harked back to the simple swiftness of their courting, and even featured a few sketches of when Anna wrote John about when she and Talbot pretended to walk out together. Those gave Anna a smile as John depicted Talbot with comically exaggerated features and changed which one he would draw larger or more crookedly with all the situations available.

Anna smiled as she explored John's views of her from their simple letters. The images she evoked with nothing more than her words. Some of them she flicked her eyes toward a busy Andrew to make sure he did not hear her breath quicken or see her cheeks heat. Those sketches from when they wrote one another about what they missed from the bedroom. Or in any of the scenarios they imagined together.

All of them, each careful or quick sketch, tucked together as an album of the life they both wished they shared if war had not torn them apart. Each one draw to reflect a mood or a need or a desire. Each one a small symbol of the love John expressed to Anna despite the distance between them.

Tucking them away, Anna focused on emptying the rest of the trunk before secreting the letters into her pockets. She stood, her knees complaining a second as she straightened, and nodded at Andrew. "I'll be back in a bit."

"Not to worry Mrs. Bates." Andrew gestured to the rest of the trunks, "I'll have this finished before you get back."

"I'd get rid of this trunk." Anna nodded toward the one in front of her. "I think the rats got to it."

"It'll be for the burn pile." Andrew smiled at her before turning back to the uniforms and suits spread over the bed in John's dressing room. "And I'll have the rest of these set up for Mr. Bates and your decision."

"Thank you Andrew." Anna left the room, walking through the corridor toward their room and knock lightly on the door. "John?"

"I'm up."

Anna smiled and pushed the door open, "I knew that. I just wanted to warn you that I was coming in."

"In case I was indecent?" John laughed, adjusting the crutch under his arm to pace himself across the distance of the room despite the darkening of sweat on the back of his shirt and in the armpit where he kept the crutch as he hobbled from one wall to the next. "Not much chance of that."

"Perhaps there was."

"What would give you that idea?"

"I don't know," Anna dug the letters from her pockets to hold them up for his inspection. "I found these and they suggested you had a number of indecent thoughts while in situations where they shouldn't have been center stage."

"What?" John frowned and then paused, staring at them.

"They were rather… suggestive. And salacious."

John paused, waiting on a leg Anna noted trembling slightly, as she approached him. "Were you cleaning out my trunk?"

"I was trying to help Andrew sort your things." Anna nodded toward John's missing leg. "Your trousers all need hemming."

"How many of them are getting a clipping?"

"Depends on how many times you want to use that." Anna pointed at the crutch as she walked to sit on the end of the bed. "Otherwise we'll depend on the wooden leg you're getting."

"You mean," John gimped his way to the bed as Anna patted the space next to her. "You'll be alright with me latching and unlatching a wooden appendage every day? With me wearing an odd sock to keep my skin from scabbing and blistering and needing a daily massage or constant care with specialized lotions and herbs and treatments from questionable individuals?"

"I don't know." Anna pulled her face dramatically as she flicked through the sketches, showing them to John's slowly opening mouth. "Do you think I'd mind any of those things if you're promising to make these thoughts a reality?"

"I…" John swallowed, his hand wrapping and squeezing the crutch. "I hadn't expected you to find those before I showed them to you."

"You almost seem embarrassed." Anna shifted on the bed, bringing her knee up to sit sideways so she faced John. "Why would these embarrass you?"

"It's not that."

"Then what is it?" Anna made a show of laying the sketches out. "They're gorgeous John."

"They're what kept my mind straight out there." John dragged a finger over one of them. "When even I was losing my mind, this was something I could hold onto. I just… I didn't want you to see them yet."

"Why not?"

John took a breath, "I wanted to paint them. To give them to you completed and not… Not as these pieces of something bigger."

"We're all pieces of something bigger." Anna smiled at the sketches. "I like them as they are, if I'm being honest."

"You do?"

"Of course." Anna shrugged, "They're very honest. And spur of the moment, which I happen to appreciate."

"They were on my mind."

"I'm glad I know I was on your mind." Anna drew her finger down the line on one of the sketches. "I love how you draw me."

"And how's that?" John's hand covered hers, molding to her fingers to trace the lines on one of his more risqué sketches. "Unless it's too racy for you."

"It's not too racy for me."

"Are you sure?" John taunted, his finger continuing to trace over her hand as she chose another of his sketches. "I'd hate to offend the lady's sensibilities."

"Not much chance of that."

"Because you're not a lady and don't pretend to be?"

"Exactly that." Anna smiled, "And one other reason."

"Oh?" John's eyebrows rose as Anna's other hand settled on his left leg. "And what reason would that be?"

"Because I am racy." Anna argued, leaning toward him. "And I love how you draw me because it's like I'm the only woman on earth and all you think about it when you'll next have your hands on me."

"Yes." John breathed, his nostrils flaring slightly as his pupils dilated.

"And," Anna gathered the sketches, letting them stack on the floor to leave the bed clear as she guided John to scoot with her. They ignored the thud of his crutch hitting the floor and found themselves in the middle of the bed, Anna laying on her side to run her fingers over the buttons on John's waistcoat. "That you'd like to have me every which way until neither of us can move."

"Yes," John's voice husked, his fingers light as they touched her hair. He paused, just a hair's breadth from her skin. "The door?"

Anna smiled at him, kissing his cheek with the hint of a lick as she broke away, and left the bed to lock the door. She padded back toward him, leaving her shoes and rolling down her stockings as she went, and lifted her skirt enough to bring her knees up on the edge of the bed. John sat up, supported at an angle with his forearms behind him as Anna brought her fingers forward to slip each button on her blouse loose until it billowed to the floor, covering the sketches.

"Johnny?"

"Out with Nanny." Anna leaned forward, putting a finger over John's lips. "If you've no more questions, Mr. Bates, I'd like to seduce my husband now."

John only nodded and followed the slight pressure of Anna's finger on his lips to lay back. She waited until his shoulders shuffled himself to a comfortable position on the pillows before rearing back to shed her corset. Her sigh was lost in the low, rumbling groan from John's throat as her chemise hung loosely about her torso. The light from the windows made the fabric all but see-through and Anna flushed at the sight of John studying her with near-lecherous intentions.

"See something you like, Mr. Bates?"

"Yes." He nodded and then shivered as Anna lowered her hands to his chest, gently prying his waistcoat and shirt buttons loose enough to help him shrug free. His tie almost caught but Anna left them all in a heap over the side of the bed. "Do you see something you like?"

"I most certainly do." Anna's fingers dragged over his chest and she lowered her head to kiss at the hints of sweat still dotting over his skin from his exertions. "The doctors have insisted you stay hidden from me for far too long."

"They wanted me to be healed."

"Wanted to keep you all to themselves." Anna teased, nipping at one of his nipples so John's head pressed back into the pillows. "It took everything I had not to prove how jealous and possessive I am."

"It was only three months."

"Longer," Anna complained, her tongue darting out to trace the lines of his muscles and the indentations of his bones. "I had to wait all those months you were away at war. All those long nights… Just thinking about you."

She dipped her head to track another path with her lips when John's hand formed around her jaw. Anna paused, frowning slightly at John's interruption. He swallowed and Anna stopped her hand moving on his skin. "Are you alright… To do this? Can… Will it be alright?"

"If you're worried about your leg-"

"No," John shook his head, meeting Anna's eyes. "I want to know that _you're_ alright. That there's not… That it won't…"

"John," Anna soothed, maneuvering over him to take his face in her hands. "I'm fine. I promise."

"If you weren't-"

"I'd tell you." Anna smiled at him, "I want this."

"So do I."

"Then I'll continue, shall I?" Anna tilted her head and placed a line of kisses down the column of his neck. "Unless you've other reservations."

"No," John barely choked out the word before Anna hummed into his skin.

"Good." Anna brought her hands to his chest again, kneading his skin and supporting herself as she shifted steadily downward. She paused when his chest caved with an intake of breath. "Something you'd like to say, John?"

"I…" Anna lifted up, her nails grazing over his abdomen as John struggled to speak. "Just a bit of poetry."

"I'm being spoiled." Anna grinned at him, "What poetry?"

"Why search for paradise," John tipped his head so their eyes met, "It is before me now."

"That's beautiful." Anna breathed, "Where'd you read that?"

"A Persian I met in Paris."

"A Parisian Persian?" Anna laughed, "Like _The Phantom of the Opera_?"

"About like that." John laughed with her, his hand moving to stroke over her sides. "I didn't mean to interrupt you."

"You want me to continue?"

"Please."

Anna lowered her mouth to his skin and traveled lower. John shifted and moaned, bucking his hips into her so the growing presence of his arousal pressed to her chest as Anna wrestled his trousers down his legs. Even with his right leg considerably shorter, his left leg and ankle still caught the cuffs of the trousers and Anna had to stand at the base of the bed to free him. But it gave her an unparalleled view of his tenting pants and when Anna finally freed him from the confines of his clothes she could only stare at him.

John shivered and shifted under her gaze, the bloom of red in his cheeks and spreading over his chest indicating more his nerves than his arousal. But his erection remained proud and Anna met John's eyes before stripping herself of her clothing as well. Each thud of material onto the floor had John's eyes darkening all the more until Anna finally joined him on the bed again so their skin could slide together like their hands when they traced the sketches together.

"Do you want to try one of your secret pleasures John?" Anna slunk over his body, barely touching him so each time her fingers met his skin he almost shuddered in anticipation.

"Anything you'd like."

"Anything?" Anna trilled, finally lowering her body to his.

"Anything," John almost whimpered as she ground against him, the slick run of her moving over his heated erection. "Anything you like."

"Then," Anna lifted enough to crawl over John's body and tucked her knees on either side of his head. "I want this one."

John's hands spanned over her thighs, running his calloused hands over her skin, and settled on the globes of her ass to bring her down so his lips could settle on her. Anna's hands reached to hold the headboard, her knuckles whitening on the wood as John dragged his tongue between her folds. The flat of it ran over her sensitive skin so each bump and ridge sent a tingling ripple through her.

Anna ground and twitched into the motion of his tongue when he pointed it to dig between her folds. The work of his tongue so consumed her that Anna gasped into a keen when one of John's hands slipped between her legs to spread her folds so his tongue could work even deeper. He dabbled at her center, ringing it before pointing his tongue to delve far enough to suck at her. It only made Anna writhe against him all the more.

But John proved his investment in the fantasy he only captured from a single angle in a single sketch. Whatever details he mind conjured when he drew that picture and tucked it amongst the letters she sent was enough to force Anna's eyes into the back of her head. For when she thought John had finished teasing her with his tongue, he merely worked back to wrap around her clit and suck hard so his fingers could enter her.

The wet sounds of his fingers sliding into her mixed with the guttural growls and urgent wrap of his tongue around her fizzing nerves. Anna risked a look down and found herself engulfed in the view of John's eyes closed in rapturous delight as he continued his ministrations on her swollen and reddening skin. His other hand shifted his grip on her ass and distracted Anna from her view when his fingers threatened to dig bruises into her skin. When she looked back, their eyes met and John's dark expression joined his efforts to bring Anna howling and shuddering over the edge to leave her shaking over him.

It was a delicate venture, trying to slink back, but when Anna turned she squealed in surprise as John's hands twisted to grab her hips. There was barely a moment to think before her knees collided with his shoulders and Anna flung her hands out to catch herself on John's chest. She bent over, looking between her legs at John, and his eyes glittered with forbidden promise before bringing her folds back to his mouth.

Anna's nails raked into John's chest. Where her grip still bore the indentations of the headboard, her fingers found the energy to flex against him as John took his second helping of her, sucking harder to leave her ears swamped in the soaked sounds. Her body tingled and quivered as he licked determined at her and Anna forced her knees into the mattress to try and ground herself enough to get closer to his mouth as the hints of orgasm rose in her body again.

She tried to focus, tried to reciprocate the emotions rising in her so John could gain some release, when a wicked thought drew her gaze. Another of John's sketches came to mind and Anna shifted just enough to bring her goal within reach. And she was not disappointed- either by her efforts or John's reaction- when they shared sounds as her mouth closed over him.

The warm weight of him on her tongue almost matched the texture of his tongue on her and their heats mingled and ratcheted up. John already had the lead, his hands adjusting on her hips and ass to better hold her and control the path of his tongue and fingers, but Anna would not give up so easily. She swirled her tongue around him as she remembered and relearned him. As they taunted and tempted one another to new heights of pleasure and sensation.

Only a fool would try to say there was no difference. That they had not woken beside one another in the months since his release from hospital to cry out at their nightmares. That they had not held to one another, clutching and crying as their demons rose from the shadows to torment them in sleep. But the dark of the night proved their haven as well as their hell as they clung to one another. Where so much had threatened to tear them apart, they wrapped into one another and created a cocoon to keep out the world as they healed together.

Anna's cheeks hollowed and John moaned into her folds, his tongue batting at her clit in retribution. She dragged her teeth over his delicate skin and wrapped her tongue around his tip as he crooked his fingers inside her. Her legs trembled and Anna tried to maintain her composure but another long lick before nipping at her clit forced her head up so she could cry out her second finish.

Supporting her weight on her hands, Anna sat up and moved faster than John could adapt. He barely had time to half-utter a confused expression before she nudged her knees along his chest and managed to sit upright where his arousal stood tall and proud. It took everything she had not to just lift herself and sheath him in a second but a devious desire for a moment of taunt had Anna sliding her soaked folds just over him so she ran a slick trail along his length.

John's fingers dug into her hips from a new angle and Anna reveled in it as he scooted them along the bed. His foot hit the floor, Anna's knees still along his thighs and her feet tucked behind them, and John's chin settled on her shoulder. A soft kiss on her neck had Anna turning to face him so their lips could meet. Their tastes mingled there and they groaned before flailing a moment in their resolve to finally come together. It took a moment before Anna's legs spread around him, John's hands helping her to widen so their pelvises met and he sat as deeply inside her they could manage to get him.

One of his arms wrapped her waist and his hand caressed her breast, kneading and molding her skin so Anna's head went back to his shoulder. It left her neck free for his kisses and Anna struggled to tangle her fingers in his hair. But once she found the purchase on his scalp she needed her nails dug into his skin to guide his lips in time to the movements of their hips. Each tug and pull and nip and suck forcing their sweating, scorching bodies faster and faster until John's other hand pressed his palm to her clit and his fingers squelched as they caressed what he could reach of her folds. Anna's other hand joined his and he bucked when the draw back of his strokes left her touch on his arousal.

After that it was less than a moment for Anna to clench around him and shake in the throes of her third climax. John's chest expanded against her back as he thrust the final few times he needed before he joined her in the bliss of orgasmic oblivion. An oblivion that had them slumping onto one another and barely managing to get back into a comfortable position on their bed.

Anna rested her head back, her leg still tossed over his leg and her right tucked under his left so the scar tissue of his right leg rubbed the back of her thigh. Shifting as John moved to his back, Anna rolled to run her hand over the skin and extracted her legs from his. Her touch had him freezing a moment and Anna almost retracted her fingers but John's wrapped her wrist.

"It's fine."

"It doesn't hurt?" She watched as he shook his head. "You're sure?"

"It's… Most of the time I can't feel anything." John sat up, sliding into the pillows to put his back to the headboard and allow Anna to put his right leg on a pillow to better investigate the tissue. "Sometimes I do, like in hospital, but now I have to tell myself that my foot doesn't itch and that nothing's kinking my knee."

"But nothing else?"

"It tingles sometimes." John nodded at Anna's fingers as they grazed the scars from where the doctors sowed his skin closed. "It's almost as if I can almost feel your fingers now but mostly it's just confused reaction I think."

"It's a miracle." Anna tucked her hair over her shoulder, a few strands settling behind her ear when they tried to escape, and she kissed over the skin. "You're here, even if the rest of your leg's not."

"You never really know how much you need something until you don't have it anymore." John gave a little snort, "I'm just glad it's not come between us."

"You could say," Anna slid forward, resting on his left leg, "It's let us be closer together since there's less of you in the way of my more salacious intentions."

"Naughty girl." John kissed her, humming happily into her mouth. "Trying to tempt me again, are you?"

"I could happily tempt you every day Mr. Bates." Anna smiled at him, her arms draping over his shoulders. "But I'll let you decide if you think you're in the mood to be seduced."

"Given that we've spent so long apart," John's arms wrapped her lower back, urging Anna forward so the thickening evidence of his desire pressed to Anna's swollen center. "I'd say that there's more than enough mood for seduction."

"So you won't need any time to rest or-" Anna's voice caught as John's fingers delved between her legs. Her nails dug into his shoulders and she swallowed hard as her head fell back at the eagerness his touch conveyed. "Relaxation… Before we continue or…"

"No." John lowered his head, wrapping his lips around one of her nipples to suck until she cried out. He lifted his head only long enough to meet her eyes. "I spent long enough abed without hope of reprieve from that boredom. I've enough energy to satisfy my wife."

"Do you?" Anna tried to tease him but with his fingers moving so adeptly inside her and his kisses and tongue leaving her breasts nothing but two points of undeniable pleasure, she could only tremble under his affectionate assault and submit to the weight of his affection.

Every action answered her question. Every quest of his fingers, every lick of his tongue, every caress of his hands, every bruise he left in his exuberance, and each satisfied cry he brought from her as they moved together. It took very little time, under his educated and tender care, for Anna to come again. She shivered and shattered around him, holding onto him for the support she needed as the world seemed to shift and shake under her. But John, through it all, remained solid and still for her. A port in whatever storm and the touchstone to which she would always return. To which she always needed to return.

Regaining her faculties, Anna took his lips. His wonderfully puckered and slightly swollen lips bearing the evidence of the kisses they already shared. Anna wondered if it was only her imagination that he still tasted a bit like her but, even if it was, there was no harm in losing herself in the taste of him. In the tangle of their tongues. And in the tightness of his teeth when they clacked together as she slid herself down him again.

They moved more slowly this time. A gentle rocking as they refused to move too far apart. It restricted the sliding thrusts they usually preferred but with Anna on John's lap she held the control of their encounter and she refused to let him go. Refused to move too far from his body. So John's hands wrapped her hips and held at her ass so each thrust struck to the depth of her as he managed to counter each of her grinding motions. Neither of them looked away and when they came together they both struggled to blink back tears.

Maneuvering together, laying tangled together on their sides, Anna ran her fingers over John's arm and chest as he dotted her head with intermittent kisses. Her stroking touches paused, bringing John to halt. "What's wrong?"

"I was just wondering," Anna tilted her head back to look at him. "Are you going to go back to your studio?"

"To paint those sketches?"

"Maybe." Anna smiled and squealed when John went to tickle her. "I already said that I'd rather you didn't paint those. Just make them an album with the letters. I kept all of yours."

"It's a rather risqué album to keep."

"Then we'll just keep it for us." Anna shook her head, kissing between John's collarbones. "But I just meant, will you go back to painting?"

"Since I'm an invalid now?"

"Since you're well enough to move." She shoved at his shoulder, "Stop fishing for compliments or you'll have to confess to a priest about your vanity."

"I'd have to confess about a great many things before I even got around to mentioning my vanity." John winked at her before settling back. "And… I think so. I want to make sure I can get around the house first. I'd hate to get stuck in there because I got tired."

"But once you've the strength?"

John nodded, "I need to go back there. I made you a promise and I intend to keep it, no matter what."

"Thank you." Anna moved her head to his shoulder, holding around his waist to keep as close to him as she could. "I want you to find the man you left in there. To meet him again and maybe find him in yourself. Because he's there, you know. He always has been."

"He's just different now?"

"Exactly." Anna closed her eyes, breathing in the scent of him and them. "We're all just different now."


	19. Show Me

"What's the worst?"

Talbot raised an eyebrow, "Why do you assume there's a 'worst' to this meeting? Did someone say something?"

"No," John narrowed his eyes, "But the shipping company's main office did burn down and my wife was, albeit temporarily, suspected of murdering a man in the aftermath. Then I lost my leg and we've had a time of my recovery so I wouldn't be surprised if life, as is its wont, continued to be less than smooth sailing."

"Then be glad I'm the captain of your ship and you're not."

John managed a weak smile, "For some reason that doesn't give me the comfort I thought it might."

"Then let this settle your mind: monetarily you're both doing beautifully."

"Truly?"

"Without wax, so calm your pretty little head on that score." Talbot flicked at his lapels, "I've done my job well."

"As always."

"Exactly."

"I do have to say, I'm not sure how I feel about you judging that I've a pretty head in any regard." John raised an eyebrow, "Are you in the habit of judging that kind of thing now?"

"Would you be offended if I were?" Talbot flashed his teeth at John, who only sighed. Talbot waved it away with an easy hand. "Despite that, it's all just waiting for this infernal war to end and hoping that Mr. Blake doesn't drive your wife mad. In the interim, as long as you're both… war profiteering-"

"We're not war profiteers."

"I didn't say it was wrong." Talbot held up his hands, "I think you're both giving jobs and opportunities to those enduring this terrible circumstance."

"Well, now that we've got your approval."

"All you had to do was ask."

John suppressed a desire to roll his eyes and tapped the desk at his side to bring focus back to their conversation. "What about my other request?"

"I've looked into it. Found a few nice places for your consideration." John frowned and Talbot shrugged, "I had to travel for work."

"But you've looked in Scotland?"

"You're set on Scotland?" Talbot pursed his lips, "Because you had me look in Wales and Ireland and if you're set on Scotland then…"

John shrugged, "I've not asked Anna and I wanted to have options when I did. I don't want this to be a little thought that popped and then deflated." He took a breath, "I think she'll agree that we need someplace new but… I want her to choose but I want to give her those choices. I want her to trust my commitment to it. So it's not just about her healing but us, together."

"That's strong talk for an Englishman."

"I'm Irish."

Talbot shrugged, "Alright then. Why not have me focus on Ireland then? If you're so proud of being Irish?"

"Would you raise a family in Ireland right now?"

"Fair point." Talbot dipped down to dig into his attaché case and handed over a file. "The photographs aren't the best but, considering the environment in which we live, we should all be glad I wasn't mistaken for a spy."

"Was that a serious concern?" John took the file and opened it to inspect the black and white photographs matching the descriptions of the location. "They're not exactly high value targets, in care someone is genuinely worried about the possibility of losing their house to a German attack."

"You know people, they're nervous about everything when there's an enemy they can't see fighting against all they hold dear." Talbot leaned back in his seat. "How is your wife, by the way? You've only mentioned her infrequently in this meeting and, when you did mention her, it wasn't with the greatest level of confidence if my instincts are correct."

John looked up from the details, "What makes you say that?"

"If you're making these plans without her input, even at a preliminary stage, that means you either don't trust her or you don't trust yourself." Talbot pushed himself to stand, reaching for his case. "It's not real until she's had her say. You and I both know it and I don't know why you're not involving her from the ground-up."

"I told you, I want her to know I'm committed to this."

"Because you're afraid she won't be." Talbot sighed and leaned on the desk, forcing John to look at him. "If there's one thing I know, and I know a great many things, it's that she'll support whatever decision is the best for both of you. There's no reason to be afraid to tell her what you're thinking."

John pushed himself back from the desk and grabbed for his cane to stand. It only took a step for his wooden foot to clunk on the floor. And despite the speed of Talbot's eyes when they flicked in that direction, John caught the look.

"You don't even have to say it and you've said it."

"John-" Talbot stopped himself putting a hand on John's shoulder, his fingers curling toward his palms. "You're different but you're the same man."

"So you'd say."

"So it is, John."

"When you're like me, a bit less than you were and worried about providing for the woman you love with all of your heart and the beautiful son you're raising together, you tell me how you gain the courage to suggest taking a leap of faith higher than any bridge on this side of the world."

"It's not a leap of faith John. A bridge, yes, but one you built with a woman who loves and trusts you."

"I do trust her, it's got nothing to do with being afraid she looks at me differently or thinks less of me."

"Then what could it possibly be?" Talbot motioned to the room around them, "This isn't exactly a midden heap."

John shook his head, "I know we're in a better position that most. Many men who came back like I did, some better and others worse, have to face a world harsher than mine and I'm no fool. I see it. I know it. And I'm not trying to say that I'm suffering the worst of anyone."

"Then I'm confused what the argument is."

"It's…" John sighed, slumping back into the chair as Talbot leaned on the desk. "It's that I want to be the man she deserves."

"Then ask her what that is."

"She'd just say it's me."

"Then the problem, John," Talbot finally clapped a hand to John's shoulder. "Isn't Anna. It's you."

"I'm aware."

"I can understand." Talbot shrugged, taking up his case again, "If I were married to a woman with the depth of compassion and brilliance and shrewd business-skills and unrelenting morality I'd feel a bit intimidated as well."

"It's not that."

"You're worried about your coveted position as provider?" Talbot shook his head, "You made money just fine sitting on your ass before. It's the benefit of having the brains you do. Besides, she makes enough money through her business for you to retire and live in the lap of luxury."

"It's not about making money, Henry."

"Then please try to find words for why you think the woman who, as far as I can tell, is still willing to take you to bed might be disappointed in you."

John cringed, "Please don't mention that."

"Why, is it not happening?"

"It is but-"

"You think it's different for us to exchange details about you proving your wife's conquest instead of me regaling you with mine?"

"It's a private matter."

Talbot paused, "But close to the source of your problem."

John nodded, "I can't show her my studio."

"Are you renovating?"

"It's…" John swallowed, "I feel like a liar going in there."

"Because you've got a wooden leg?"

"Because my hand shakes when I hold a pen." John demonstrated, dropping it solidly to the desk and splattering ink that Talbot barely missed. "How can I hold a brush the same way when I can't even write my own name?"

"Is this… What are they calling it?" Talbot's forehead furrowed before he snapped his fingers. "Shell shock. You've got it?"

"Anna already knows about the nightmares. She… She got very familiar with them when I was home on leave a year ago." John shook his head, "I could write her all the letters I needed in the trenches. I could write reports, after-actions, and whatever other missives I needed in the field. But after they took my leg, when I woke up in that bed, I can't… My hand tremors."

"Like palsy?"

"The doctors said it might be a…" John closed his eyes to remember more completely. "A psycho-symptomatic response. A way for the body to try and recognize it experienced serious trauma and seek to resolve it in a visible way. A physical manifestation of internal turmoil so my mind could understand the suffering on a concrete level."

"Sounds bloody useless if you ask me."

"It's even more useless when it combines with my memories and nightmares to leave me shaking all over." John pointed toward the stairs, "I almost tumbled to my death less than a week ago when I heard something fall in the library and thought it was a shot. I barely grabbed the bannister to land on my ass on the stairs before I tumbled ass over eyeballs down them."

"And now your hands shake?"

John nodded. "It'll make it bloody impossible to paint."

"Anna wants you to paint?"

"She believes it'll help me."

"Maybe it will." Talbot shrugged, "I'm no doctor and I'm surely not an alienist so I've no idea how to help you. But perhaps the best thing to do is just sit in there. Sit where you felt comfortable and hope it brings back those good memories. Brings back the part of you confident when you're got charcoal or whatever in your hand."

"How is that you can take something, simplify it, and make it sound condescending in that tone of voice?"

"It's a gift." Talbot checked his watch before tucking it back into his pocket. "I'd best be off. You may be a man of leisure now but I've still got to report to a number of superiors who, at the end of the day, give their notes to the King."

"Go," John waved him away, "I'm finished with you anyway."

Talbot winked and showed himself out, leaving John idly tapping his fingers on the top of the desk. After a moment he grabbed for his cane, wrapping his callousing hands around the head, and pushed himself to his feet. His steps, strong but hitched, took him from the study and to the library so he could ascend the winding staircase to his entrance of his studio.

It took a moment of him staring at the doorway before he finally opened it. The smell of paint and his stretched canvases washed him in memories that left John standing in the doorway for another reason. But when he took the scents in, John pushed forward and closed the door behind him.

He paced the space, his cane making a hollow thumping sound on the wood, and stopped near his empty easels. Tilting his cane on one of them, John steadily gimped his way around the room so the thin knock of his cane traded for the heavier thud of his fake foot. The weight still hung from his thigh, sliding against his skin despite the sock until blisters and callouses formed over the scarred and sown skin. It forced him to pause more than once on his rounds about the room to try adjusting the piece to sit more comfortably.

When the rubbing irritated him too much, John sat on one of his stools and dragged himself closer to an empty easel. He sat still for a time, his hand holding the head of his cane as he turned it slowly over the floor. It took only a few moments for John to wrap his hand more securely over the head of his cane and push himself to his feet. His steps caught as he walked to the supplies, wrapped so carefully in cloth, and withdrew those he could one-handed.

It took a few trips but John finally erected his easel and paints, sitting on his stool so he could unlatch his leg. The heavy thud of it dropping to the floor almost distracted him but John focused on his palette and the canvas before him. A canvas that gave him nothing the longer he stared at it.

John sighed, closing his eyes as his head dropped back. "Bugger."

He rolled his shoulders, steadying his breathing as he tried to focus his thoughts. They jumbled and tangled until John steadied his breathing to clear his mind. As the minutes ticked by, each one cleared his head a little more until he blinked and saw the canvas again.

This time it spoke to him. Not as it had before the war. Before his experiences in China. When he first picked up a brush, long before he wore a uniform, the canvas had screeched at him. Each brush or pen he took to paper was like a cone to shout his response to the sounds.

After China he painted differently. The sounds changed and his style reflected the impact of the culture on his work. They were darker, heavier, and tucked away in a trunk he never opened. A trunk he kept in the attics with winter clothing and hunting attire he never bothered to wear.

Then his work lightened. His models were those he saw in parks or walking the streets. Those he noted in a tiny sketchbook to paint in more detail later. Or the occasional woman he courted or fancied or, if she was a student of art, just someone wishing to watch the practice of the craft and perform for it. To be a part of it.

Those works he sold. For pennies and pence, nothing significant as an additive to his fortune but enough to donate to charities and organizations that he supported. Those places that liked nice work on their walls but had neither the money nor the time to cultivate collections. It gave him pride to give what he could and to do what he could for those in need.

It was not until Anna that the fire for painting ignited again. Those paintings where he struggled to capture her until she posed for him. John forced himself to breathe as he remembered Anna laying for him on the chaise just feet away. The depth of emotion in the drawings he made of her that night before streaking her skin with the charcoal on his fingers… It almost made John weep for such feeling again. To have the desire to paint so viciously again.

John twirled the brush between his fingers, in a style he saw so often with the Chinese in Beijing. His thumb stuck up, offering a point to pivot, and flicked the brush around it. Each pass had him debating waiting for Anna to take her place on the chaise, if she would agree, and painting her. But the canvas whispered to him. Whispered that he needed to paint something else.

He put the brush firmly between his fingers and noted how his hand still trembled. With a deep breath he dragged the brush through a series of colors before putting the bristles to the canvas. His hand wavered and shook but he finally cleared the brush and put it back to his palette again.

Each run of the brush over the canvas or the palette left his hand steadier and surer until John pushed himself back from the work. It looked nothing like the works he stored away. Or those he sold. In truth John thought it resembled a child's painting but he smiled at it all the same.

As he pushed his stool back, reaching for his prosthetic, the brush fell from his hand and splattered on the wood. John groaned, setting his palette aside and left the brush on his easel to better address his wooden appendage. He bent to lower himself to the floor and held the leg between his hands.

Staring at it for a long time, John narrowed his eyes and raised his head to inspect the other easels. It only took a hand on his stool to lift himself onto his real leg and he used the stool as a crutch to moved around to another easel. One where he gently laid his leg before dragging the stool back to his abandoned palette and brushes. Those he rested gently on the stool as he dragged it and himself back to the easel where his leg waited.

The colors there were dark. The explosions and red of the fire the only brightness in the midst of the carnage he left over his wooden leg. The leg that served as the focus for all his residual emotion about the loss of his leg. All his pain and anger, his frustration, his loss of mobility, and his loss of self all reflected in his work until the leg dripped with the overlapping paints that left a red sky, dark fields, and a shadow of something never returned.

John pushed himself back from the easel and scooted to another, grabbing a small canvas where he poured more of himself. Paint splattered the floor again, covering old splotches and drips, and over himself. John tossed away his coat and his tie, leaving his shoe and socks until he wore only his shirt and trousers. Left everything that tied him down until it was only him, missing his leg, and the canvases he filled with colors and left dotting the room as they dried.

He returned to his leg, turning it from the side where he left his pain, and looked at his palette. It was a mess of mixed colors with only swatches of dark red and orange truly left with a touch of black and brown. John almost dipped his brush in them but he paused. After a moment his hand stopped shaking and John dragged his brush to form the petals of flowers.

Flowers like those that dotted Flanders's fields. Like those he pinned to his lapel in remembrance. Like those Lieutenant Colonel McCrae wrote about.

A hand rested on his shoulder and John jumped slightly, scooting his stool over the floor. He grabbed for it and was not the only one. As John turned to see who helped him with the stool, he heard Anna's voice.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you."

"You… Did." John laughed with her, correcting the stool and sitting on it. "I was just… painting."

"I can see that." Anna turned in place, admiring his work, and then nodded at his leg. "Giving yourself a little adjustment as well?"

"I needed something to…" John waved a hand at it. "I'm not sure what else there is to say."

Anna gingerly maneuvered it to examine both sides. "I rather like your work."

"It's not like it was."

"I wouldn't think it would be." Anna pulled something from behind her back. "As I don't think this is something you would've put together three years ago."

John's jaw dropped at the sight of the folder and he swallowed hard. "I… I don't… I was going to…"

"Explain it to me?" Anna twisted her wrist and John blinked at the sight of two nearly identical folders. "I'm aware of what they are because it was almost exactly like mine."

"You've been doing research too?"

Anna nodded, "I think you and I've had the same thoughts. And some rather similar reservations."

"Given that we've not spoken about it to one another?"

"My thoughts exactly." Anna dragged another stool close to John's. "I think our… Individual but shared trauma is the source of that."

"Of our reservations?"

"And our desire to find somewhere new." Anna smiled, peeking at the two folders before handing one over to John. "Although I didn't have Mr. Talbot's resources as my disposal for my search."

"Or you just didn't use him." John nudged Anna with his elbow and she nudged him back. "You didn't go looking yourself did you?"

"No," Anna shook her head. "I used Branson. He was bored just sitting around the garage wiping down the motors."

"You make it sound like I left him with nothing to do."

"All your meetings are here now and I've not had anywhere to go since the new offices are just a stone's throw from here." Anna shrugged, "He enjoyed the exercise and the paid reimbursement for his travel and troubles."

"I'm sure he'll suggest he go to Ireland."

"He's smarter than that." Anna gave a little smile. "Although he is partial to it. He says we should think about it in maybe ten years."

"He thinks ahead." John gave a laugh, tapping the folder against his right thigh until he missed where his knee would be and almost dropped it. "Then you think we need a new place?"

Anna nodded, "I think you and I've… We've been trying to make it work here. Trying to fight our demons here but sometimes you need to retreat."

"And that's what you want?"

"It's it what you want?" Anna pointed at his folder. "I wasn't the only one trying to find us new accommodations."

"I just want to find us a place where we'll be happy again. Away from all the darkness and rumors and speculation about all the things we've endured."

"Somewhere to feel safe again?"

John nodded slowly and then stood, taking Anna's hand to hop to his cane so it could act as an impromptu crutch. "It's why I painted these."

"John you shouldn't be using your cane that way."

"Then," He dabbed his fingers carefully on his wooden appendage to check that it was dry before attaching it to the stump of his leg. "Good as new."

Anna bent, lifting his trouser leg to inspect it. "I think I should hem all your trousers. You wouldn't want to hide this work from the world."

"It's not for the world."

"All the same," Anna stood again, letting his trouser leg fall to put her fingers to his face. "It says so much about you John."

"It'd be too much to say for some."

"Then we'll let it be our secret." Anna let her fingers trace his face before taking his free hand. "Now, show me what you've done here."

John led her around the room, describing the paintings until they became clearer. The clearer they became the quieter they grew until they approached the last one. The one with the house in Scotland from the photographs that Talbot provided John. The one that bore all the signs of life a black-and-white photograph failed to depict but John imagined belonged there. That felt right for there.

Anna stopped before it, leaning against the wall with all the easels full and only his preparation table free to hold it. Her fingers caressed over her lips and her other hand left his grip to risk a brush over the canvas. Given the barest of sheens on the colors, she stopped short so her fingers curled toward her palm. They held there before Anna used her hand to support the half-turn that had her facing John.

"It's gorgeous."

"They were…" John took a breath, releasing it a moment later. "They started blurry. I've had tremors in my hands so I couldn't trust the brush. But once I did my leg then it was as if I could hear the paint again. The canvases spoke to me and, slowly, as I continued painting they grew less blurry. Each one cleared until I found the moment of… The Chinese call it enlightenment but I'll just call it clarity."

"It's clear that this is your favorite of the choices Mr. Talbot gave you."

John winced a moment before shifting to stand at Anna's side so they could look at one another. "Is that a bad thing?"

"No," Anna shook her head and waved a hand at the folder she left on her stool. "I rather like this place. The life you've given it…"

Her fingers stroked the air over the painting again. "I want that. I want the life we can have there."

"Then we'll have it." John shifted, sidestepping rather heavily with his leg. "I… I want to ask you something but I'm not sure if it's the right time."

"What?" Anna turned her head enough to rest her cheek against his paint-dotted shirt and John wrapped his arms around her.

"May I take you like this?" She did not answer and John swallowed hard. "I was thinking, earlier, that… Well, fearing, actually, that perhaps the only way I could paint again was if you were here. If you could light that fire in my again."

"Were you afraid you'd lost it?"

"Yes." John dipped his head, kissing gently at the exposed skin of Anna's neck. "I thought I'd never paint again. I thought I'd need you just to put a brush to canvas and find the life hidden there."

"But you didn't."

"No, I didn't." John closed his eyes, catching a whiff of Anna's perfume and following it to her cheek. "I found something I wanted to share with you instead."

"And what's that?" Anna's cheek slid against his lips until theirs almost touched and their eyes met.

"This painting." John put his cheek alongside hers so they looked in the same direction and his chin settled on her shoulder. "That's what I want for our future."

"Me too." Anna's hand rested on his cheek so her fingers could trace the lines there. "I want that John."

"And I want us to have good memories. To remember those memories over all the others." John's other hand ran down her arm to cover her hand on the table. "Like the mirror in that hotel room."

"Feels like a lifetime ago."

"And I can't see your face like I did then." John blinked at the painting, "But we could imagine, together, what it'd be like to live in a place where we've no longer got shadows haunting us."

"A place like this?"

"Yes."

Anna's fingers bent to curl up between his and her hips shifted just enough to press herself back against John. "I want to remember only the good too John. To forget all else and just have us again. To be us again."

"Then, if you feel the slightest bit worried or-"

Her fingers tightened around his but her face remained toward the painting. "I can't be scared. It's you and you'll never let me forget you're here."

"I'm always here."

His hands worked over her delicately. Like she was his brush and they wanted to make a piece of art together. Or was she the canvas he hoped to paint with her soft moans, the trembling cries, or the whimpers for his touch to do more than just tease at her skin? Be she brush or canvas, Anna was no idle model but an active participant and it was not long before her knickers and stockings gathered in an unsightly heap near their feet.

They shifted and rolled together, John's hands occupied with brushing against her breasts through her blouse and corset until Anna threatened to free herself of the buttons. The pieces hung off her, not even removed as John touched over her to follow the signals she left in satisfied sighs or guttural gasps. And his other hand slowly dragged her skirt out of the way so he could learn other sounds while his fingers memorized familiar pathways.

Her hands covered his, her fingers joining in the titillating experience until John finally freed himself from his trousers and pants. They almost caught on his prosthetic but fate intervened and John could move forward to run his pulsing arousal against the swelling, wet heat between Anna's legs. A heat they encouraged and stoked together with their joined fingers until John drew hers back long enough to allow him to thrust forward.

The table in front of them rocked with their motions. John's hand almost slapping onto its surface to give himself another point of leverage. Anna's fingers scrabbled over his as their speed increased and she dug her nails into his skin but John pressed harder, moved as fast as he could against her, and ignored the harsh rub of the prosthetic on his leg. Whatever pain lanced through his body fell to the onslaught of his devotion to bringing Anna over the edge.

When his fingers pressed at her clit, rubbing and pressing furiously, Anna arched in his arms. Her back formed to his chest and every fiber of her being tightened like a taut bowstring before releasing in a rush. A rush that clenched her vaginal walls around him until John could only respond in kind. Respond with a climax that carried hers further until they both slumped toward the table and gasped through the last stutters and judders of their bodies.

John stood, trying to restore as much of their dignity as possible, and heard Anna laugh as her forehead pressed to the paint-splattered surface of the table. "What is it?"

"I came in here to tell you about dinner and now I think we've both missed it." Anna straightened, pushing herself back enough to stand fully. She pivoted to face John and looped her arms around his neck. "It was worth it, in case you had another question."

"None at all." John dipped to kiss her. "I'll ask them to bring us a tray."

"Seems a little rude of us, given we've ignored their efforts."

"It'll be a bit more rude when we ask which members of our staff want to move to Scotland." John dropped to recover his trousers and pants, grimacing as his prosthetic rubbed again. "But that'll be for tomorrow."

"Sufficient for the day is the evil thereof?"

"Exactly that." John lifted his hands, brushing loose strands of hair from Anna's face to kiss her. "Are you happy with it?"

"Scotland?" John nodded and Anna smiled. "I'm happy that you're happy about it. I'm happy that we've something to be happy about."

"Good." John kissed her again, the glint in her eye proving he could not stop himself. "Because I've got another surprise on that account."

"Not sure my poor heart could take it." Anna put a hand dramatically to her left breast, still slightly exposed with her hurried attempt to restore her corset and button her blouse properly.

"The house is near Edinburgh." Anna frowned and John hurried to explain, "It's means that AS Shipping could continue."

"Because it's a port city?" Anna's lips pursed and her brow furrowed as John watched a thousand thoughts whiz past her eyes. "You think of everything."

"In this case, it was Henry."

"Then thank goodness for Mr. Talbot." Anna lifted her own hand to brush a drooping bit of hair back from John's forehead. "Thank God and thank you."

"I thank God everyday for you."

"Mr. Bates," Anna swatted at him, "Be careful or you'll make me come over all insensible right here in this studio."

"Then isn't it a good thing that's my favorite way to have you?" John growled and helped Anna sit on the edge of the table. "If you'd like."

"I'd be a fool to refuse."

"Thank goodness." John grinned and dropped his mouth to her neck, starting his kisses there all over again.


	20. White Queen

"Are your eyes closed?"

"You've got your hands over them. Can't you tell?"

"I'm about to remove my hands so I need you to tell me if they're closed."

Anna huffed, "Yes, they're closed."

John's hands slid away from Anna's face and she resisted the urge to immediately open her eyes. She sighed and crossed her hands over her chest while John puttered around. The scent of paint wafted around her and Anna smiled to herself as she imagined what John had planned for her in his studio.

It took another minute or two but John, slightly out of breath but sounding excited, spoke. "Alright, you can open your eyes now."

Anna peeked for a moment before fully opening her eyes. When she did, John's flushed face was the first thing she noted. The excitement sparkled in his eyes and Anna finally turned toward the canvases he carefully arranged over the walls and around the room.

Her jaw fell and Anna struggled to keep her footing even as she walked the room. Arranged in a circle, each painting a different size and shape but depicting the story John warned her about before the war. The collage-like arrangement he promised would be his gift to her when it was all over. Her fingers rested lightly on her mouth as she finished and pivoted to face John and his grin.

"They're beautiful."

"Far more… detailed than the ones I did a few weeks ago but…" He held up his hand and Anna noted the lack of a tremor or the slightest hint of a tremble. "My hands are steadier now."

"Good thing too." Anna walked back to the start of the paintings, her fingers tracing the line of the vision of her John painted there. "I do hope you've no plans on exhibiting this series."

"I've never been interested in showing my work like that." John joined her, the smoothness to his step reminding Anna of his new prosthetic and she caught sight of his old, painted one hanging over his brushes and paints. "But, if you'd like, I could treat this as a private tour."

"It'd have to be." Anna nodded at the paintings. "They're far too life-like for anyone else viewing them to not recognize me."

She took his available hand, the other occupied as it was on his cane. "I was curious if you ever finished those drawings you did of me that night."

"The night when you walked brazenly out from behind that screen and let my dressing gown drop to the floor as if you had done it a thousand times?"

"I was bold then."

"I'm glad you were." John lifted her hand to kiss the back of it. "If you hadn't been then I may never've pressed my interest in you."

"And why would you not?" Anna faced him, her arms wrapping over her chest. "If anyone was to be nervous that night it was me."

"Why?"

"You were, still are, the Baron Rothschild." Anna shook her head, "I thought I was Cinderella the night you picked me from the crowd and we danced."

"Did you?" John leaned toward her, whispering in her ear. "I just saw myself as the luckiest man in the world and marveled that you ever looked twice at me."

"How could I not?" Anna put her hand to his cheek and closed her eyes when he kissed her cheek and to her forehead. "You're the only man I ever wanted."

"Then let me tell you," John pulled away, "I intend to paint those one day."

"Why didn't you already?"

John shrugged, "Because they felt complete that night. If I paint them then…"

"The magic'll be gone?" John winced and then nodded. Anna only intertwined their fingers. "Then don't paint them. Like I hope you never paint those sketches. They're marks of a time we shouldn't change."

"Never."

"We'll just start anew," Anna maneuvered to face the first of the paintings. "This'll be the leaf we turn over."

"Then I hope you like them."

"They're what you think of me." Anna tightened her fingers between his. "I could never get tired of that."

She looked back at the painting, "You told me you'd have one with my back to the audience."

"I did."

"But," Anna lifted her hand to the painting, "Why put me in a forest?"

"Because you've always been a nymph to me." John's eyes took a faraway look, as if seeing something in his mind he could not quite express. "And I wanted to put you in a place where you'd be in the habitat of a creature of nature. Something not quite of this world. Some beautiful creature of a higher dimension."

"A naked angel would seem a little sacrilegious." Anna walked to the next one, just a pace away. "Now she knows someone's watching her and you've exposed the hint of a breast."

"A hint is all you need to titillate someone." John grinned and pointed, "I thought the look of surprise preserves your innocence."

"It's all a feint of course."

"Of course."

"I'm curious," Anna did not move to the next painting, still intrigued by the suggestions given in John's second painting. "When did you sketch me for these?"

"I could paint you in my sleep now." John dipped his head to kiss her neck. "I know what your expressions are now and while you're always welcome to model for me, it's not necessary to take your time so I can make something for you."

"If you're insistent," Anna moved to the third painting. "Then I'll accept your surprises with a grateful heart."

"But?" John edged behind her and Anna raised a warning finger.

"But remember that if you ever want to paint or sketch me, you need only ask." Anna turned to the painting to see the view changed and her cheeks reddened slightly. "I can see why she'd gasp in surprise."

"You can?"

"It wasn't a threat to her innocence." Anna took a breath, her nostrils flaring. "It was because someone spotted her with her hand where it shouldn't be."

"I seem to remember you demonstrating how you used your hand."

Anna hummed as John kissed the back of her neck again, "At the hotel?"

"I was proud of how you'd used what I taught you." John nipped at the skin of her collar before risking a hand around to release a button so he could draw her blouse back to expose more skin. "I wanted to paint that."

"Her legs are open and she's wet so I'll assume she's very experienced at pleasuring herself." Anna sighed, her eyes fluttering shut as John kissed further toward her shoulder and helped her remove her blouse. "It's just a shame."

"What?" John paused, resting his chin on her shoulder.

"She's no one to share her pleasure with." Anna shrugged, upsetting John's position and moving to the fourth painting. "Even here, where she's no longer shy about touching herself."

"Don't you think she's on display?"

"Of course I do." Anna stepped just out of John's reach, her hands casually releasing her skirt to drape it over the nearest stool. "But there's no one else but her here to experience the ecstasy she's found through her own actions."

"Then you don't like them?" John bit at his lip as Anna sat on the chaise, kicking her shoes aside and bringing her legs up to slowly roll down her stockings. His nostrils flared and Anna noted the dilation of his pupils.

"I didn't say that." Anna freed herself from the remainder of her clothes and rested back on the chaise lounge, pointing to the last painting. "You caught her finish rather perfectly. The reaction is… incendiary."

"It is, as promised," John sat on the end of the chaise, hands holding so tightly Anna noted the whiteness of his knuckles. "The most beautiful thing I've ever painted… As I hoped."

"Then," Anna spread her legs on the chaise, her toes digging in just short of where John's hands rested. "Why don't I demonstrate for you? To ensure you captured her as perfectly as you did."

"Wouldn't it be disappointing to not share it with someone?" John gestured to the paintings, "That was your argument here."

"But you're here," Anna smiled, her hands kneading at her breasts as she caught the tent in John's trousers. "And you'll share it with me."

"Like whomever was watching in those paintings?"

"Exactly." Anna leaned back, her knees pointing out as one of her hands snaked down from her breasts toward the juncture of her legs. Her fingers formed a 'V' and she began stroking slowly, in time with her hold at her breasts. "I wish you'd painted him."

"Him?"

Anna nodded, "Whomever was watching her. How he'd pleasure himself. How he'd then pleasure her before they pleasured one another." Her voice caught as she swirled her thumb over her clit and slipped a finger between her folds. "I'd love to see that series."

"It'll be the next one I do."

"Good." Anna leaned her head back on the back of the chaise. "I'm curious when you replaced this."

"When I realized that I didn't want to sit sideways on it." John edged closer as Anna's fingers worked deeper and harder.

"And this one allows you to straddle it." Anna glanced down at John's trousers and ran her tongue over her bottom lip. "The way you keep insisting I straddle you."

"It's better that way." John's waistcoat, tie, and shirt landed on the floor with Anna's other clothing and he managed his trousers and pants away before his smooth prosthetic dropped heavily to the floor. "More comfortable."

"What if I want it a different way?" Anna paused, holding herself on the edge so her body practically vibrated with the tension quivering in her muscles as John slipped closer. "What if I want you on top?"

"Anna-"

"It's different now but it's not new." Her hand left her breasts as her fingers brought her over the edge. She timed it when her hand grasping his shoulder as her neck rounded over the smoothed back of the chaise. The sounds of her finish kept her gasping for air and digging her fingers in his shoulder until her vision cleared. Anna blinked and saw the darkness in John's eyes. "We'll manage it."

John's lips met hers in a rush and Anna used her available hand to hold his face so she could slant her mouth over his to drive her tongue deep into his mouth. He groaned and tangled his tongue with hers to suck hard enough to leave Anna gasping into his mouth. Her hand, still tucked between her legs, collided with his when his hand set to delve his fingers deep between her folds. Their fingers intertwined until John broke their kiss and extracted his fingers with hers.

Before Anna could move her fingers, John sucked them into his mouth and Anna leaned forward to kiss her taste from him. Instead she found his fingers, shining with the traces of her he gathered, and mimicked his motions until John finished with her fingers. His eyes met hers as he slid back and set his hands on her thighs to spread them wide enough to accept his shoulders. His mouth settled on her folds and he drank from her as Anna dug her fingers into his hair and threw her neck back as her back arched under his ministrations.

It did not take long, as swollen and wet as she was from her earlier self-care, for Anna to come hard enough to lock her knees against his head. John's hands only gripped tighter on her thighs as he finished her and released only when she did. Anna breathed out and tried to steady herself as John shifted over her.

"You're still sure you want it like this?"

"I want you," Anna put her hands on his shoulders, her foot sliding up his good leg while her other leg notched over his hip to pull him closer. "However you want to take me is up to you."

"But?"

Anna grinned at him, "But I'd prefer it this way."

"Never let it be said that I did not do the bidding of the forest nymph." John smiled back, lowering his head to her breast and swirling his tongue around her nipple. "I'd hate for you to bring the wrath of whatever forest god you serve."

"I'm sure you'd find a way to survive it." Anna arched her back, offering him more and keening in pleasure as John followed her unspoken directive.

His hands settled on her thighs again, holding them wide enough to thrust forward in a single stroke. Anna's nails raked over the skin of his shoulders before she found a point of purchase to hold to as John continued thrusting. One of her hands snuck to his side while the other shifted to his ass. Her fingers dug into the flesh there as her palm pressed down to urge him faster and deeper. Her hips tilted and she fit her heels to the back of his thighs to hold tighter to him when he changed his pace to pound deeper into her.

John shifted his hips, tipping himself to use the stump of his right leg for better leverage while his left foot held to the floor. The chaise shifted against the floor, squeaking slightly under the force of their motions, but Anna reached an arm behind her to hold tight to the back of the seat so she stayed in place. John's head found her breasts again and her hand snaked between them to bring them both to the edge as their slick bodies slid against one another. It only took a little flick of Anna's wrist and the same with John's tongue to bring them both to climax.

She mapped his body with her fingers as they settled, still quivering and slipping together as they tried to breathe normally. Anna held his head to her chest, kissing intermittently at his scalp while her fingers brushed through his hair. John pressed kisses to her skin as he raised his head and met her lips. They matched sloppy kisses until John sat up and smiled at her.

"Have I satisfied you?"

"More than." Anna tried to raise herself up, leaning on the back of the chaise so they could share more of the seat. "I did tell you."

"It was different." John took a deep breath. "And you're right, you did tell me."

"I'll not hold it over your head." Anna looked around the room, "I'll miss this. Our little place here."

"Where I can show you the risqué pictures I paint of you?"

"Where it's just us and the world doesn't matter." Anna leaned forward, taking John's hands with hers. "Where we're the only people in the world."

"I'm sure our toddling son might disagree with that assessment."

"He might." Anna bent over to retrieve her things and worked back into her clothes. "But he can't speak yet so I doubt he'll complain much."

"Yet." John strapped on his prosthetic. "When he can talk…"

"I'll not be rushing that day." Anna gathered the rest of her clothes, standing to dress before handing John his things. "Come on. There's packing to be done and Mrs. Hughes won't like a delay when she's got a chance to go back to her home."

"We're not leaving until next week."

"Any delay is a delay." Anna paused, her skirt almost in place. "But, if you wanted, I'd be willing to risk a little more time on a bath."

John could only grin at her.

The preparations for departure proceeded with unparalleled vigor and the organization of a military operation with Mrs. Hughes at the head of them. Between she and Mr. Carson, who insisted on coming with them as he had nothing to tie him to London, the Bates household was ready to move to their new Scottish abode right on schedule. And with Anna turning over the management of the newly refurbished London arm of AS Shipping to Baxter and Moseley so she could start the office in Edinburgh, their business ventures only relied on their new office location… that Talbot already procured for them.

Anna walked the offices for the last time, Baxter as her side and Moseley taking a few steps behind them, to nod at the work. "It's lovely."

"It was Mr. Blake's doing." Baxter shrugged, "He thought it a blessing the old place burned down because then there would be nothing stopping us stepping fully into the future."

"I guess it's right that someone thought there would be a gain to the disaster in which we found ourselves." Anna sighed, "It'll be hard, building from the ground up again, but there's a lot to learn."

"Like father like daughter eh?" Moseley put forward and Anna nodded.

"Exactly that Mr. Moseley." Anna took a breath, "It'll be interesting to see if Mr. Blake'll stay with us once the war's over. I'd hate to see his talents wasted on something as ridiculous as government work when they've no need of his genius."

"Should I extend him the opportunity when the moment presents itself?" Baxter paused and Anna nodded.

"If he's willing, I'd love to see what he'll do if given the chance to work for us." Taking a final turn, Anna nodded. "The place is yours Ms. Baxter and I wish you the best of luck with it."

"Thank you Anna." Baxter paused, swallowing as her eyes teared. "I've… I've never really had a chance to prove myself before. You gave that to me and I've… I've never been happier than I have here."

"I'm glad." Anna held her hands. "And I know you two will run this place splendidly. You already do."

The circumstance proved similar with Mr. Talbot. John's pleadings for the man to come with them, or at least promise to continue his dedicated work once the government no longer needed his brilliance and expertise fell on unwilling ears. Anna tried to keep her laughter to herself when Talbot admitted why. It was the same reaction she had when Mary confessed that with Matthew's death in the war, Talbot had been there for her. At first out of respect for Matthew and then because he truly liked Mary.

"Then let John and my gift to your wedding be our house."

"With all the associated stains too?" Mary raised her eyebrow but Anna only rolled her shoulders. "Because I've heard your husband paints."

"He does and don't worry, we used that skill to pain over anything you might find… distressing." Anna tried to suppress her grin and failed. "We had a time of painting, I'll be honest with you about that. You'd be surprised how much work is involved… And how messy it all becomes."

"Anna…" Mary shuddered, "I don't want to know more."

"Then I won't tell you more." Anna handed over a piece of paper. "But we want you to take the house. If Mr. Talbot'll still be managing John's money from London then you'll both need a place that's not your parent's house. A place of your own where you, as Lady Mary Talbot, will entertain guests and your husband can conduct respected business."

"This is too generous a gift." Mary tried to push it back but Anna shook her head. "You won't take it back?"

"We're moving to Scotland. What need do we have for a house in London we'll never need again?"

"If you're sure."

"I am." Anna smiled, "It's a wonderful place. Just not for us anymore."

"And what about this place you've purchased in Scotland?" Mary shifted in her seat, turning the deed over in her hands. "Henry said it was quite the location. Very beautiful and rustic and exceedingly Scottish."

"It's all those things if Mr. Talbot says it is."

"You've not seen it?"

"I've seen the photographs and John did a lovely painting of it." Anna shrugged at Mary's wide-eyed surprise. "It's called Craggy Reach and it's located next to some moors."

"Which'll remind you far too much of home."

"Being Yorkshire is something you're always going to be, even if you live in London and run a shipping company."

Mary stayed quite a moment. "And you're sure this is what you want?"

"We've spent too long being haunted here. We need someplace new."

"Alright then. Just don't expect me to make a thing of coming all the way to Scotland to visit you."

"You and Mr. Talbot are welcome whenever you find it convenient to visit. And, if not, then letters still work through the postal service and there's the telegraph line which, not surprisingly, runs right along the train line so we don't have to worry about communication breaking down."

"You make it sound so medieval." Mary waved a hand. "You'll have to come back to London for the wedding anyway."

"Must I?"

"Of course." Mary shrugged, "If you don't then the only person I've got to be a bridesmaid is my sister and we all know that she's hopeless."

"Maybe not as hopeless as you always seem to think she is."

"That's hopeless enough."

Anna only rolled her eyes.

They moved north, the train taking them all the way there. Anna insisted on Johnny sitting on her lap most of the way and only handed him to John when she wanted sleep. Without a Nanny they managed him on their own until Mrs. Hughes found one in Edinburgh she knew from childhood. Slowly, with Mrs. Hughes as the main architect, they filled out their household at Craggy Reach and built their new home about the same time Anna built their new arm of AS Shipping.

It took well over a year, Johnny proving his expertise and tenacity by managing to toddle his way around the house and begin learning as many new words as he could manage to mispronounce correctly, until they felt settled in their Scottish castle. A castle that felt empty when Anna walked the halls and the only noises came from those who worked there or their guests when they hosted events. A castle she wanted to fill with more life.

So she arranged a picnic. One for she and John to enjoy on their own on the hills of their land overlooking their little valley. The little hill that proved a bit difficult for John to climb but he managed it all the same before dropping his prosthetic just short of the blanket Anna spread over the grass.

"I'm sorry." Anna winced as John laid down. "I didn't think about it when I picked the spot."

"Then don't think about it." John shrugged. "I managed."

"But your leg…"

"Got removed the moment it proved to be a problem." John took her hand and pulled Anna down with him. "Come on. Let's just enjoy the view and a little time for celebration."

Anna sat down, pulling the two baskets closer. "You're assuming that we've got anything to celebrate."

"Don't we?"

"Maybe." Anna played at being coy as she dug out a bottle and unwrapped it for him. "I've brought beer."

"That's very racy of you."

"I'm racy."

"So you've told me before." John took the bottle. "What've you got for us to drink to, since you've gone and brought beer?"

"Our future." Anna pulled the cork from the top and clinked her bottle against his. "And your Scottish blood."

"What've you got planned?"

"Nothing." Anna sipped at her bottle and reached for the other basket but John snatched it before she could get it.

"What are you plotting?"

"Nothing." Anna insisted and wrestled the basket back from him with a well-timed distraction. All it took was a thorough kiss and John's arm slackened. She got the basket back and settled back. "I promise."

"I don't believe you."

"Believe what you like." Anna opened the baskets, "And even if there was a surprise to be had, I wouldn't tell you until after we've eaten."

"Why not?" John pouted and Anna shrugged.

"Because then we wouldn't eat the food I've gone to the trouble of preparing with the new cook Mrs. Hughes got for us and that'd be a crying shame."

They ate, both trying to keep their giggles and their suspicions to themselves until dessert finished. Anna leaned over to kiss the last remains of frosting from the corner of John's mouth before sitting back and cleaning around their picnic. As she tucked the basket away, John nabbed her hand and dragged her to him.

"Can you tell me what you've planned now?"

"Well," Anna put her hands on either side of his chest as John laid back on the blanket. "I've been thinking a lot over the last year."

"About?"

"Johnny's getting bigger and our house is far too empty."

"Oh?" John helped Anna settle over his hips, straddling him. "And what did you have in mind to make our house a little more fully?"

"I think we've already solved that." Anna leaned forward, her finger tracing his buttons before opening them slowly. "Because I'm pregnant."

"You're…" John blinked and Anna dragged his hands to her abdomen. "We're… We're going to have another baby?"

"Yes." Anna nodded, her fingers stroking over his hands before running her hands over his exposed chest. "I'm sure enough to tell you but I don't think we should tell anyone else."

"I'm good with secrets." John's hands moved from her abdomen down her thighs to hitch her skirts higher so he could touch her skin. "I'll keep this to myself. It'll be our little secret."

"That's right." Anna leaned over him, kissing up his chest. "And we can talk about it betwixt ourselves all we like."

"I like that." John snuck his fingers under her knickers to stroke over her. "We'll keep it between us."

"Yes we will." Anna shifted enough to bring his trousers and pant down so her hand could wrap around his arousal. "Just between us."

John sat up and maneuvered forward to kiss around Anna's collar as he opened her blouse. "Like most things."

"That's right." Anna's fingers delved into his hair, holding him close as he kissed above her corset and let his fingers open it. "That's what marriage is."

"Yes it is." John continued kissing her, his fingers still working deeper under her knickers until he managed to pull them to the side. "For richer for poorer."

"For better or for worse." Anna slid forward, taking his fingers deeper as her hand continued to hold around his arousal.

"In sickness and in health." John lifted his hips and Anna moved to take him in a single thrust.

"For as long as we both shall live." Anna rolled her hips on him, holding to his shoulders before John rolled them to put Anna's back to the blanket.

He shifted into her, moving as excruciatingly slowly as he could. Anna lifted her legs higher and tried to urge him deeper with a tilt of her hips. But nothing increased John's pace as he measured every motion until Anna practically whimpered with desperation.

"It's like the Embassy." She whispered in his ear when John draped over her, his kisses moving down toward her breasts.

"What?"

"It's like the Embassy, an eternity ago." Anna held tighter to John's shoulders, one of her hands shifting to move under his trousers and pants to dig her nails into his ass but it did not quicken his pace in the slightest. "I could've danced all night then, with you."

"Could you?"

"Yes." Anna hitched her leg over his hip and John put his right leg down to create a pivot point for him to drive deeper into her. It forced a groan from Anna as John struck the places that forced her to moan all the deeper.

"I prefer the dance we're doing now." John grunted, kissing furiously at her neck before growling and lowering to adore her breasts. "And, if you'd like, we can still do this one all night."

"Yes." Anna breathed, holding to him tighter when John angled his hips to drive even deeper. His pace increased, the pounding motions driving her hips into the ground. Her grip tightened and she pulled his lips from her breasts to kiss him hard. Her vision flashed with spots as John responded with fervor. "Yes, please. Don't stop."

"I don't plan to." John broke the kiss to dot sloppy ones over her neck. "Not as long as you want me to keep going."

"I'd be more upset if you stopped." Anna's breath hitched and she put her cheek to his neck as her arm wrapped over his shoulders and her legs tightened around him. "I'm not done yet."

"I know." John's hand snuck between them and his fingers ran over her, using the material of her skirt and knickers to leave her clenching and tightening around him. That only spurred John faster and he drove into her until Anna finally came.

Her cry brought him with her a second later. They settled, sorting themselves out as best they could, before laying down on the blanket. Anna tangled her hand with his and smiled at him.

"And you seemed so surprised that I'm having a baby."

"It's not been easy for us."

'Sometimes it just takes people longer." Anna shrugged, moving closer to him. "But we're going to have a family John. A proper family."

"Something for us." Anna turned onto her side as John continued. "Our family in our home with our future ahead of us."

"It sounds like a dream."

"It's our dream." John kissed her and turned onto his side to match.

"It's a good dream." Anna sighed, "You picked a lovely spot."

"Is it as lovely as you imagined."

"It's better."


End file.
